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THE WORKS

EDGAR ALLAN POE

WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND A MEMOIR

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD

VOL. Ill

POE'S COTTAGE AT FORDH"

NEW YORK
A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON

714 B ROADWAY

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by

J. S. REDFIELD,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court, for the Southern District of New York.

OCT 15 1956

CONTENTS.

PAGE

the domain of arnheim i

landor's cottage 25

william wilson 44

berenice 75

eleonora 88

LIGEIA . . 98

MORELLA 122

METZENGERSTEIN . 131

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS .... 145

THE SPECTACLES l6l

THE DUC DE L' OMELETTE 1 99

THE OBLONG BOX . 205

KING PEST . „ 223

THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK 242

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY 252

LIONIZING . . . . . . . . 265

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM ..... 273

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

The garden like a lady fair was cut,
That lay as if she slumbered in delight,

And to the open skies her eyes did shut.

The azure fields of Heaven were 'sembled right
In a large round set with the flowers of light.

The flowers de luce and the sparks of dew

That hung from their azure leaves did shew

Like twinkling stars that sparkle in the evening blue.

— Giles Fletcher.

FROM his cradle to his grave a gale of prosperity
bore my friend Ellison along. Nor do I use the
word prosperity in its mere wordly sense. I mean it as
synonymous with happiness. The person of whom I
speak seemed born for the purpose of foreshadowing the
doctrines of Turgot, Price, Priestly, and Condorcet — of
exemplifying by individual instance what has been deemed
the chimera of the perfectionists. In the brief existence of
Ellison I fancy that I have seen refuted the dogma, that
in man's very nature lies some hidden principle, the an-
tagonist of bliss. An anxious examination of his career
has given me to understand that, in general, from the
violation of a few simple laws of humanity arises the

2 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

wretchedness of mankind — that as a species we have in
our possession the as yet unwrought elements of content
— and that, even now in the present darkness and mad-
ness of all thought on the great question of the social
condition, it is not impossible that man, the individual,
under certain unusual and highly fortuitous conditions
may be happy.

With opinions such as these my young friend, too, was
fully imbued, and thus it is worthy of observation that
the uninterrupted enjoyment which distinguished his life
was, in great measure, the result of preconcert. It is in-
deed evident that with less of the instinctive philosophy
which, now and then, stands so well in the stead of ex-
perience, Mr. Ellison would have found himself precipi-
tated, by the very extraordinary success of his life, into
the common vortex of unhappiness which yawns for those
of pre-eminent endowments. But it is by no means my
object to pen an essay on happiness. The ideas of my
friend may be summed up in a few words. He admitted
but four elementary principles, or more strictly, conditions,
of bliss. That which he considered chief was (strange to
say !) the simple and purely physical one of free exercise
in the open air. "The health," he said, "attainable by
other means is scarcely worth the name." He instanced
the ecstacies of the fox-hunter, and pointed to the tillers
of the earth, the only people who, as a class, can be fairly
considered happier than others. His second condition
was the love of woman. His third, and most difficult of

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 3

realization, was the contempt of ambition. His fourth was
an object of unceasing pursuit ; and he held that, other
things being equal, the extent of attainable happiness was
in proportion to the spirituality of this object.

Ellison was remarkable in the continuous profusion
of good gifts lavished upon him by fortune. In personal
grace and beauty he exceeded all men His intellect was
of that order to which the acquisition of knowledge is less
a labor than an intuition and a necessity. His family was
one of the most illustrious of the empire. His bride was
the loveliest and most devotee! of women. His possessions
had been always ample ; but on the attainment of his ma-
jority, it was discovered that one of those extraordinary
freaks of fate had been played in his behalf which startle
the whole social world amid which they occur, and seldom
fail radically to alter the moral constitution of those who
are their objects.

It appears that about a hundred years before Mr.
Ellison's coming of age, there had died, in a remote
province, one Mr. Seabright Ellison. This gentleman
had amassed a princely fortune, and, having no immediate
connections, conceived the whim of suffering his wealth to
accumulate for a century after his decease. Minutely and
sagaciously directing the various modes of investment, he
bequeathed the aggregate amount to the nearest of blood,
bearing tne name of Ellison, who should be alive at the
end of the hundred years. Many attempts had been made
to set aside this singular bequest ; their ex post facto char-

4 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

acter rendered them abortive ; but the attention of
a jealous government was aroused, and a legislative act
finally obtained, forbidding all similar accumulations.
This act, however, did not prevent young Ellison from en-
tering into possession, on his twenty-first birth-day, as the
heir of his ancestor Seabright, of a fortune of four
hundred and fifty millions of dollars*

When it had become known that such was the enormous
wealth inherited, there were, of course, many speculations
as to the mode of its disposal. The magnitude and
the immediate availability of the sum bewildered all who
thought on the topic. The possessor of any appreciable
amount of money might have been imagined to perform
any one of a thousand things. With riches merely sur-
passing those of any citizen, it would have been easy
to suppose him engaging to supreme excess in the fashion-
able extravagances of his time — or busying himself with
political intrigue — or aiming at ministerial power — or pur-
chasing increase of nobility — or collecting large museums
of virtu — or playing the munificent patron of letters,

* An incident, similar in outline to the one here imagined, occurredj not
very long ago, in England. The name of the fortunate heir was Thelluson.
I first saw an account of this matter in the " Tour " of Prince Puckler Mus-
kau, who makes the sum inherited ninety millions of pounds, and justly
observes that " in the contemplation of so vast a sum, and of the services
to which it might be applied, there is something even of the sublime." To
suit the views of this article I have followed the Prince's statement, although
a grossly exaggerated one. The germ, and in fact, the commencement of the
present paper was published many years ago — previous to the issue of the
first number of Sue's admirable " Juif Errant" which may possibly have
been suggested to him by Muskau's account.

THE DOMAIN OF ARNIIEIM. 5

of science, of art — or endowing, and bestowing his name
upon extensive institutions of charity. But for the in-
conceivable wealth in the actual possession of the heir,
these objects and all ordinary objects were felt to afford
too limited a field. Recourse was had to figures, and
these but sufficed to confound. It was seen that, even at
three per cent., the annual income of the inheritance
amounted to no less than thirteen millions and five hun-
dred thousand dollars; which was one million and one
hundred and twenty-five thousand per month ; or thirty-
six thousand nine hundred and eighty-six per day ; or one
thousand five hundred and forty-one per hour ; or six and
twenty dollars for every minute that flew. Thus the
usual track of supposition was thoroughly broken up.
Men knew not what to imagine. There were some who
even conceived that Mr. Ellison would divest himself
of at least one half of his fortune, as of utterly superfluous
opulence — enriching whole troops of his relatives by
division of his superabundance. To the nearest of these
he did, in fact, abandon the very unusual wealth which
was his own before the inheritance.

I was not surprised, however, to perceive that he had
long made up his mind on a point which had occasioned
so much discussion to his friends. Nor was I greatly
astonished at the nature of his decision. In regard to
individual charities he had satisfied his conscience. In
the possibility of any improvement, properly so called,
being effected by man himself in the general condition of

O THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

man, he had (I am sorry to confess it) little faith. Upon
the whole, whether happily or unhappily, he was thrown
back, in very great measure, upon self.

In the widest and noblest sense he was a poet. He
comprehended, moreover, the true character, the august
aims, the supreme majesty and dignity of the poetic
sentiment. The fullest, if not the sole proper satisfaction
of this sentiment he instinctively felt to lie in the creation
of novel forms of beauty. Some peculiarities, either in
his early education, or in the nature of his intellect, had
tinged with what is termed materialism in all his ethical
speculations ; and it was this bias, perhaps, which led him
to believe that the most advantageous at least, if not the
sole legitimate field for the poetic exercise, lies in the
creation of novel moods of purely physical loveliness.
Thus it happened he became neither musician nor poet —
if we use this latter term in its every-day acceptation. Or
it might have been that he neglected to become either,
merely in pursuance of his idea that in contempt of ambi-
tion is to be found one of the essential principles of hap-
piness on earth. Is it not indeed, possible that, while a
high order of genius is necessarily ambitious, the highest
is above that which is termed ambition ? And may it not
thus happen that many far greater than Milton have con-
tentedly remained "mute and inglorious?" I believe
that the world has never seen — and that, unless through
some series of accidents goading the noblest order of mind
into distasteful exertion, the world will never see — that

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 7

full extent of triumphant execution, in the richer domains
of art, of which the human nature is absolutely capable.

Ellison became neither musician nor poet ; although no
man lived more profoundly enamored of music and poetry.
Under other circumstances than those which invested him,
it is not impossible that he would have become a painter.
Sculpture, although in its nature rigorously poetical, was
too limited in its extent and consequences, to have occu-
pied, at any time, much of his attention. And I have
now mentioned all the provinces in which the common
understanding of the poetic sentiment has declared it
capable of expatiating. But Ellison maintained that the
richest, the truest, and most natural, if not altogether
the most extensive province, had been unaccountably
neglected. No definition had spoken of the landscape-
gardener as of the poet ; yet it seemed to my friend that
the creation of the landscape-garden offered to the proper
Muse the most magnificent of opportunities. Here, in-
deed, was the faintest field for the display of imagination
in the endless combining of forms of novel beauty ; the
elements to enter into combination being, by a vast
superiority, the most glorious which the earth could
afford. In the multiform and multicolor of the flower
and the trees, he recognised the most direct and energetic
efforts of Nature at physical loveliness. And in the direc-
tion or concentration of this effort — or, more properly, in
its adaptation to the eyes which were to behold it on
earth — he perceived that he should be employing the

8 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHETM.

best means — laboring to the greatest advantage — in the
fulfilment, not only of his own destiny as poet, but of the
august purposes for which the Deity had implanted the
poetic sentiment in man.

" Its adaptation to the eyes which were to behold it on
earth." In his explanation of this phraseology, Mr.
Ellison did much toward solving what has always seemed
to me an enigma : — I mean the fact (which none but the
ignorant dispute) that no such combination of scenery
exists in nature as the painter of genius may produce.
No such paradises are to be found in reality as have
glowed on the canvas of Claude. In the most enchanting
of natural landscapes, there will always be found a defect
or an excess — many excesses and defects. While the
component parts may defy, individually, the highest skill
of the artist, the arrangement of these parts will always
be susceptible of improvement. In short, no position can
be attained on the wide surface of the natural earth, from
which an artistical eye, looking steadily, will not find
matter of offence in what is termed the "composition " of
the landscape. And yet how unintelligible is this ! In
all other matters we are justly instructed to regard nature
as supreme. With her details we shrink from competition.
Who shall presume to imitate the colors of the tulip, or to
improve the proportions of the lily of the valley ? The
criticism which says, of sculpture or portraiture, that here
nature is to be exalted or idealized rather than imitated,
is in error. No pictorial or sculptural combinations of

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 9

points of human loveliness do more than approach the
living and breathing beauty. In landscape alone is the
principle of the critic true , and, having felt its truth here,
it is but the headlong spirit of generalization which has
led him to pronounce it true throughout all the domains
of art. Having, I say, felt its truth here ; for the feeling
is no affectation or chimera. The mathematics afford no
more absolute demonstrations than the sentiment of his
art yields the artist. He not only believes, but positively
knows, that such and such apparently arbitrary arrange-
ments of matter constitute and alone constitute the true
beauty. His reasons, however, have not yet been matured
into expression. It remains for a more profound analysis
than the world has yet seen, fully to investigate and ex-
express them. Nevertheless he is confirmed in his instinc-
tive opinions by the voice of all his brethren. Let a "com-
position " be defective ; let an emendation be wrought
in its mere arrangement of form ; let this emendation be
submitted to every artist in the world -, by each will its
necessity be admitted. And even far more than this ; in
remedy of the defective composition, each insulated
member of the fraternity would have suggested the iden-
tical emendation.

I repeat that in landscape arrangements alone is the
physical nature susceptible of exaltation, and that, there-
fore, her susceptibility of improvement at this one point,
was a mystery I had been unable to solve. My own
thoughts on the subject had rested in the idea that the

IO THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

primitive intention of nature would have so arranged the
earth's surface as to have fulfilled at all points man's sense
of perfection in the beautiful, the sublime, or the pic-
turesque ; but that this primitive intention had been frus-
trated by the known geological disturbances — disturbances
of form and color-grouping, in the correction or allaying
of which lies the soul of art. The force of this idea was
much weakened, however, by the necessity which it in-
volved of considering the disturbances abnormal and un-
adapted to any purpose. It was Ellison who suggested
that they were prognostic of death. He thus explained :
— Admit the earthly immortality of man to have been the
first intention. We have then the primitive arrangement
of the earth's surface adapted to his blissful estate, as
not existent but designed. The disturbances were the
preparations for his subsequently conceived deathful
condition.

" Now," said my friend, " what we regard as exaltation
of the landscape may be really such, as respects only the
moral or human point of view. Each alteration of the
natural sceneiy may possibly effect a blemish in the pic-
ture, if we can suppose this picture viewed at large — in
mass — from some point distant from the earth's surface,
although not beyond the limits of its atmosphere. It is
easily understood that what might improve a closely
scrutinized detail, may at the same time injure a general
or more distinctly observed effect. There may be a class
of beings, human once, but now invisible to humanity, to

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. H

whom, from afar, our disorder may seem order — our un-
picturesqueness picturesque ; in a word, the earth-angels,
for whose scrutiny more especially than our own, and for
whose death-refined appreciation of the beautiful, may
have been set in array by God the wide landscape-gardens
of the hemispheres."

In the course of discussion, my friend quoted some
passages from a writer on landscape-gardening, who has
been supposed to have well treated his theme :

"There are properly but two styles of landscape-
gardening, the natural and the artificial. One seeks to
recall the original beauty of the country, by adapting its
means to the surrounding scenery ; cultivating trees in
harmony with the hills or plains of the neighboring
land ; detecting and bringing into practice those nice rela-
tions of size, proportion and color which, hid from the
common observer, are revealed everywhere to the experi-
enced student of nature. The result of the natural style
of gardening, is seen rather in the absence of all defects
and incongruities — in the prevalence of a healthy harmony
and order — than in the creation of any special wonders or
miracles. The artificial style has as many varieties as
there are different tastes to gratify. It has a certain gen-
eral relation to the various styles of building. There are
the stately avenues and retirements of Versailles ; Italian'
terraces ; and a various mixed old English style, which
bears some relation to the domestic Gothic or English
Elizabethan architecture. Whatever may be said against

12 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

the abuses of the artificial landscape-gardening, a mixture
of pure art in the garden scene adds to it a great beauty.
This is partly pleasing to the eye, by the show of order
and design, and partly moral. A terrace, with an old
moss-covered balustrade, calls up at once to the eye the
fair forms that have passed there in other days. The
slightest exhibition of art is an evidence of care and
human interest."

" From what I have already observed," said Ellison,
"you will understand that I reject the idea, here ex-
pressed, of recalling the original beauty of the country.
The original beauty is never so great as that which may
be introduced. Of course, every thing depends on the
selection of a spot with capabilities. What is said about
detecting and bringing into practice nice relations of size,
proportion, and color, is one of those mere vaguenesses of
speech which serve to veil inaccuracy of thought. The
phrase quoted may mean any thing, or nothing, and
guides in no degree. That the true result of the natural
style of gardening is seen rather in the absence of all de-
fects and incongruities than in the creation of any special
wonders or miracles, is a proposition better suited to the
grovelling apprehension of the herd than to the fervid
dreams of the man of genius. The negative merit sug-
gested appertains to that hobbling criticism which, in let-
ters, would elevate Addison into apotheosis. In truth,
while that virtue which consists in the mere avoidance of
vice appeals directly to the understanding, and can thus^

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 1 3

be circumscribed in rule, the loftier virtue, which flames in
creation, can be apprehended in its results alone. Rule
applies but to the merits of denial — to the excellencies
which refrain. Beyond these, the critical art can but sug-
gest. We may be instructed to build a " Cato," but we
are in vain told how to conceive a Parthenon or an " In-
ferno." The thing done, however ; the wonder accom-
plished ; and the capacity for apprehension becomes uni-
versal. The sophists of the negative school who, through
inability to create, have scoffed at creation, are now
found the loudest in applause. What, in its chrysalis
condition of principle, affronted their demure reason,
never fails, in its maturity of accomplishment, to extort
admiration from their instinct of beauty.

" The author's observations on the artificial style," con-
tinued Ellison, " are less objectionable. A mixture of
pure art in a garden scene adds to it a great beauty.
This is just ; as also is the reference to the sense of human
interest. The principle expressed is incontrovertible —
but there may be something beyond it. There may be an
object in keeping with the principle — an object unattain-
able by the means ordinarily possessed by individuals,
yet which, if attained, would lend a charm to the land-
scape-garden far surpassing that which a sense of merely
human interest could bestow. A poet, having very un-
usual pecuniary resources, might, while retaining the
necessary idea of art or culture, or, as our author
expresses it, of interest, so imbue his designs at once

1 4 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

with extent and novelty of beauty, as to convey the senti-
ment of spiritual interference. It will be seen that, in
bringing about such result, he secures all the advan-
tages of interest or design, while relieving his work of the
harshness or technicality of the worldly art. In the most
rugged of wildernesses — in the most savage of the scenes
of pure nature — there is apparent the art of a creator;
yet this art is apparent to reflection only ; in no respect
has it the obvious force of a feeling. Now let us suppose
this sense of the Almighty design to be one step depressed
— to be brought into something like harmony or consis-
tency with the sense of human art — to form an interme-
dium between the two : — let us imagine, for example, a
landscape whose combined vastness and definitiveness —
whose united beauty, magnificence, and strangeness, shall
convey the idea of care, or culture, or superintendence, on
the part of beings superior, yet akin to humanity — then
the sentiment of interest is preserved, while the art inter-
volved is made to assume the air of an intermediate or
secondary nature — a nature which is not God, nor an
emanation from God, but which still is nature in the sense
of the handiwork of the angels that hover between man
and God,"

It was in devoting his enormous wealth to the embodi-
ment of a vision such as this — in the free exercise in the
open air ensured by the personal superintendence of his
plans — in the unceasing object which these plans afforded
— in the high spirituality of the object — in the contempt

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. I 5

of ambition which it enabled him truly to feel — in the
perennial springs with which it gratified, without possi-
bility of satiating, that one master passion of his soul, the
thirst for beauty ; above all, it was in the sympathy of a
woman, not unwomanly, whose loveliness and love
enveloped his existence in the purple atmosphere of
Paradise, that Ellison thought to find, and found, exemp-
tion from the ordinary cases of humanity, with a far
greater amount of positive happiness than ever glowed in
the rapt day-dreams of De Stael.

I despair of conveying to the reader any distinct con-
ception of the marvels which my friend did actually
accomplish. I wish to describe, but am disheartened by
the difficulty of description, and hesitate between detail
and generality. Perhaps the better course will be to unite
the two in their extremes.

Mr. Ellison's first step regarded, of course, the choice
of a locality ; and scarcely had he commenced thinking on
this point, when the luxuriant nature of the Pacific
Islands arrested his attention. In fact, he had made up
his mind for a voyage to the South Seas, when a night's
reflection induced him to abandon the idea. " Were I
misanthropic," he said, " such a locale would suit me.
The thoroughness of its insulation and seclusion, and the
difficulty of ingress and egress, would in such case be the
charm of charms ; but as yet I am not Timon. I wish
the composure but not the depression of solitude. There
must remain with me a certain control over the extent

1 6 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

and duration of my repose. There will be frequent hours
in which I shall need, too, the sympathy of the poetic i.n
what I have done. Let me seek, then, a spot not far
from a populous city — whose vicinity, also, will best
enable me to execute my plans."

In search of a suitable place so situated, Ellison trav-
elled for several years, and I was permitted to accompany
him. A thousand spots with which I was enraptured he
rejected without hesitation, for reasons which satisfied
me, in the end, that he was right. We came at length to
an elevated table-land of wonderful fertility and beauty,
affording a panoramic prospect very little less in extent
than that of ^Etna, and, in Ellison's opinion as well as my
own, surpassing the far-famed view from that mountain in
all the true elements of the picturesque.

" I am aware," said the traveller, as he drew a sigh of
deep delight after gazing on this scene, entranced, for
nearly an hour, " I know that here, in my circumstances,
nine-tenths of the most fastidious of men would rest con-
tent. This panorama is indeed glorious, and I should
rejoice in it but for the excess of its glory. The taste of
all the architects I have ever known leads them, for the
sake of ' prospect,' to put up buildings on hill-tops. The
error is obvious. Grandeur in any of its moods, but
especially in that of extent, startles, excites — and then
fatigues, depresses. For the occasional scene nothing can
be better — for the constant view nothing worse. And, in
the constant view, the most objectionable phase of gran-

THE DOMAIN OF AENHEIM. 1 7

deur is that of extent ; the worst phase of extent, that of
distance. It is at war with the sentiment and with the
sense of seclusion — the sentiment and sense which we seek
to humor in • retiring to the country.' In looking from
the summit of a mountain we cannot help feeling abroad
in the world. The heart-sick avoid distant prospects as
a pestilence."

It was not until toward the close of the fourth year of
our search that we found a locality with which Ellison
professed himself satisfied. It is, of course, needless to say
where was the locality. The late death of my friend, in
causing his domain to be thrown open to Certain classes
of visitors, has given to Arnheim a species of secret and
subdued if not solemn celebrity, similar in kind, although
infinitely superior in degree, to that which so long dis-
tinguished Fonthill.

The usual approach to Arnheim was by the river. The
visitor left the city in the early morning. During the
forenoon he passed between shores of a tranquil and
domestic beauty, on which grazed innumerable sheep,
their white .fleeces spotting the vivid green of rolling
meadows. By degeees the idea of cultivation subsided
into that of merely pastoral care. This slowly became
merged in a sense of retirement — this again in a conscious-
ness of solitude. As the evening approached, the channel
grew more narrow ; the banks more and more precipitous ;
and these latter were clothed in richer, more profuse, and
more sombre foliage. The water increased in transpar-

1 8 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

ency. The stream took a thousand turns, so that at no
moment could its gleaming surface be seen for a greater
distance than a furlong. At every instant the vessel
seemed imprisoned within an enchanted circle, having
insuperable and impenetrable walls of foliage, a roof of
ultra-marine satin, and no floor — the keel balancing itself
with admirable nicety on that of a phantom bark which,
by some accident having been turned upside down, floated
in constant company with the substantial one, for the
purpose of sustaining it. The channel now became a
gorge — although the term is somewhat inapplicable, and I
employ it merely because the language has no word which
better represents the most striking — not the most distinc-
tive— feature of the scene. The character of gorge was
maintained only in the height and parallelism of the
shores ; it was lost altogether in their other traits. The
walls of the ravine (through which the clear water still
tranquilly flowed) arose to an elevation of a hundred and
occasionally of a hundred and fifty feet, and inclined so
much toward each other as, in a great measure, to shut
out the light of day ; while the long plume-like moss
which depended densely from the intertwining shrub-
beries overhead, gave the whole chasm an air of funereal
gloom. The windings became more frequent and
intricate, and seemed often as if returning in upon them-
selves, so that the voyager had long lost all idea of direc-
tion. He was, moreover, enwrapt in an exquisite sense
of the strange. The thought of nature still remained,

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 1 9

but her character seemed to have undergone modification,
there was a weird symmetry, a thrilling uniformity, a
wizard propriety in these her works. Not a dead branch
— not a withered leaf — not a stray pebble — not a patch of
the brown earth was anywhere visible. The crystal water
welled up against the clean granite, or the unblemished
moss, with a sharpness of outline that delighted while it
bewildered the eye.

Having threaded the mazes of this channel for some
hours, the gloom deepening every moment, a sharp and
unexpected turn of the vessel brought it suddenly, as if
dropped from heaven, into a circular basin of very consid-
erable extent when compared with the width of the gorge.
It was about two hundred yards in diameter, and girt in
at all points but one — that immediately fronting the
vessel as it entered — by hills equal in general height to
the walls of the chasm, although of a thoroughly different
character. Their sides sloped from the water's edge at an
angle of some forty-five degrees, and they were clothed
from base to summit — not a perceptible point escaping —
in a drapery of the most gorgeous flower-blossoms;
scarcely a green leaf being visible among the sea of odor-
ous and fluctuating color. This basin was of great depth,
but so transparent was the water that the bottom, which
seemed to consist of a thick mass of small round alabaster
pebbles, was distinctly visible by glimpses — that is to say,
whenever the eye could permit itself not to see, far down
in the inverted heaven, the duplicate blooming of the hills.

20 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

On these latter there were no trees, nor even shrubs of
any size. The impressions wrought on the observer were
those of richness, warmth, color, quietude, uniformity,
softness, delicacy, daintiness, voluptuousness, and a mirac-
ulous extremeness of culture that suggested dreams of a
new race of fairies, laborious, tasteful, magnificent, and
fastidious ; but as the eye traced upward the myriad-
tinted slope, from its sharp junction with the water to its
vague termination amid the folds of overhanging cloud,
it became, indeed, difficult not to fancy a panoramic cata-
ract of rubies, sapphires, opals, and golden onyxes, rolling
silently out of the sky.

The visitor, shooting suddenly into this bay from out
the gloom of the ravine, is delighted but astounded by the
full orb of the declining sun, which he had supposed to be
already far below the horizon, but which now confronts
him, and forms the sole termination of an otherwise limit-
less vista seen through another chasm-like rift in the hills.

But here the voyager quits the vessel which has borne
him so far, and descends into a light canoe of ivory,
stained with arabesque devices in vivid scarlet, both
within and without. The poop and beak of this boat
arise high above the water, with sharp points, so that the
general form is that of an irregular crescent. It lies on
the surface of the bay with the proud grace of a swan.
On its ermined floor reposes a single feathery paddle of
satin-wood ; but no oarsman or attendant is to be seen.
The guest is bidden to be of good cheer — that the fates

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 21

will take care of him. The larger vessel disappears, and
he is left alone in the canoe, which lies apparently motion-
less in the middle of the lake. While he considers what
course to pursue, however, he becomes aware of a gentle
movement in the fairy bark. It slowly swings itself
around until its prow points toward the sun. It advances
with a gentle but gradually accelerated velocity, while the
slight ripples it creates seem to break about the ivory
side in divinist melody — seem to offer the only possible
explanation of the soothing yet melancholy music for
whose unseen origin the bewildered voyager looks around
him in vain.

The canoe steadily proceeds, and the rocky gate of the
vista is approached, so that its depths can be more dis-
tinctly seen. To the right arise a chain of lofty hills
rudely and luxuriantly wooded. It is observed, however,
that the trait of exquisite cleanness where the bank dips
into the water, still prevails. There is not one token of
the usual river de'bris. To the left the character of the
scene is softer and more obviously artificial. Here the
bank slopes upward from the stream in a very gentle as-
cent, forming a broad sward of grass of a texture resem-
bling nothing so much as velvet, and of a brilliancy of
green which would bear comparison with the tint of the
purest emerald. This plateau varies in width from ten to
three hundred yards ; reaching from the river-bank to a
wall, fifty feet high, which extends, in an infinity of
curves, but" following the general direction of the river,

22 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHE1M.

until lost in the distance to the westward. This wall is
of one continuous rock, and has been formed by cutting
perpendicularly the once rugged precipice of the stream's
southern bank ; but no trace of the labor has been suffered
to remain. The chiselled stone has the hue of ages, and
is profusely overhung and overspread with the ivy, the
coral honeysuckle, the eglantine, and the clematis. The
uniformity of the top and bottom lines of the wall is fully
relieved by occasional trees of gigantic height, growing
singly or in small groups, both along the plateau and in
the domain behind the wall, but in close proximity to it ;
so that frequent limbs (of the black walnut especially)
reach over and dip their pendent extremities in the water.
Farther back within the domain, the vision is impeded by
an impenetrable screen of foliage.

These things are observed during the canoe's gradual
approach to what I have called the gate of the vista. On
drawing nearer to this, however, its chasm-like appearance
vanishes; a new outlet from the bay is discovered to the
left — in which direction the wall is also seen to sweep,
still following the general course of the stream. Down
this new opening the eye cannot penetrate very far ; for
the stream, accompanied by the wall, still bends to the
left, until both are swallowed up by the leaves.

The boat, nevertheless, glides magically into the wind-
ing channel ; and here the shore opposite the wall is found
to resemble that opposite the wall in the straight vista.
Lofty hills, rising occasionally into mountains, nnd cov-

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM. 2$

ered with vegetation in wild luxuriance, still shut in the
scene.

Floating gently onward, but with a velocity slightly
augmented, the voyager, after many short turns, finds his
progress apparently barred by a gigantic gate or rather
door of burnished gold, elaborately carved and fretted,
and reflecting the direct rays of the now fast-sinking sun
with an effulgence that seems to wreath the whole sur-
rounding forest in flames. This gate is inserted in the
lofty wall ; which here appears to cross the river at right
angles. In a few moments, however, it is seen that the
main body of the water still sweeps in a gentle and exten-
sive curve to the left, the wall following it as before, while
a stream of considerable volume, diverging from the prin-
cipal one, makes its way, with a slight ripple, under the
door, and is thus hidden from sight. The canoe falls into
the lesser channel and approaches the gate. Its ponder-
ous wings are slowly and musically expanded. The boat
glides between them, and commences a rapid descent into
a vast amphitheatre entirely begirt with purple mountains,
whose bases are laved by a gleaming river throughout the
full extent of their circuit. Meantime the whole Paradise
of Arnheim bursts upon the view. There is a gush of en-
trancing melody ; there is an oppressive sense of strange
sweet odor; — there is a dream-like intermingling to the
eye of tall slender Eastern trees — bosky shrubberies —
flocks of golden and crimson birds — lily-fringed lakes —
meadows of violets, tulips, poppies, hyacinths, and tube-

THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEJM.

roses — long intertangled lines of silver streamlets — and,
upspringing confusedly from amid all, a mass of semi-
Gothic, semi-Saracenic architecture, sustaining itself by
miracle in mid-air ; glittering in the red sunlight with a
hundred oriels, minarets, and pinnacles ; and seeming the
phantom handiwork, conjointly, of the Sylphs, of the
Fairies, of the Genii, and of the Gnomes.

LANDOR'S COTTAGE.

A PENDANT TO " THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM.

DURING a pedestrian trip last summer, through
one or two of the river counties of New York, I
found myself, as the day declined, somewhat embarrassed
about the road I was pursuing. The land undulated very
remarkably ; and my path, for the last hour, had wound
about and about so confusedly, in its effort to keep in the
valleys, that I no. longer knew in what direction lay the

sweet village of B , where I had determined to stop

for the night. The sun had scarcely shone — strictly
speaking — during the day, which, nevertheless, had been
unpleasantly warm. A smoky mist, resembling that of
the Indian summer, enveloped all things, and of course,
added to my uncertainty. Not that I cared much about
the matter. If I did not hit upon the village before sun-
set, or even before dark, it was more than possible that a
little Dutch farmhouse, or something of that kind, would
soon make its appearance — although, in fact, the neigh-
borhood (perhaps on account of being more picturesque
than fertile) was very sparsely inhabited. At all events,

26 LANDOR'S COTTAGE.

with my knapsack for a pillow, and my hound as a sentry,
a bivouac in the open air was just the thing which would
have amused me. I sauntered on, therefore, quite at
ease — Ponto taking charge of my gun — until at length,
just as I had begun to consider whether the numerous
little glades that led hither and thither, were intended to
be paths at all, I was conducted by one of them into an
unquestionable carriage track. There could be no mis-
taking it. The traces of light wheels were evident ; and
although the tall shrubberies and overgrown undergrowth
met overhead, there was no obstruction whatever below,
even to the passage of a Virginian mountain wagon — the
most aspiring vehicle, I take it, of its kind. The road,
however, except in being open through the wood — if
wood be not too weighty a name for such an assemblage
of light trees — and except in the particulars of evident
wheel-tracks — bore no resemblance to any road I had be-
fore seen. The tracks of which I speak were but faintly
perceptible — having been impressed upon the firm, yet
pleasantly moist surface of — what looked more like green
Genoese velvet than any thing else. It was grass, clearly
— but grass such as we seldom see out of England — so
short, so thick, so even, and so vivid in color. Not a
single impediment lay in the wheel-route — not even a
chip or dead twig. The stones that once obstructed the
way had been carefully placed— not thrown — along the
sides of the lane, so as to define its boundaries at bottom
with a kind of half-precise, half-negligent, and wholly pic-

LAN-DOR'S COTTAGE. 2*J

turesque definition. Clumps of wild flowers grew every-
where, luxuriantly, in the interspaces.

What to make of all this, of course I knew not. Here
was art undoubtedly — that did not surprise me — all roads,
in the ordinary sense, are works of art ; nor can I say that
there was much to wonder at in the mere excess of art
manifested ; all that seemed to have been done, might
have been done here — with such natural "capabilities"
(as they have it in the books on Landscape Gardening) —
with very little labor and expense. No ; it was not the
amount but the character of the art which caused me to
take a seat on one of the blossomy stones and gaze up
and down this fairy-like avenue for half an hour or more
in bewildered admiration. One thing became more and
more evident the longer I gazed : an artist, and one with
a most scrupulous eye for form, had superintended all
these arrangements. The greatest care had been taken
to preserve a due medium between the neat and graceful
on the one hand, and the pittoresque, in the true sense of
the Italian term, on the other. There were few straight,
and no long uninterrupted lines. The same effect of
curvature or of color appeared twice, usually, but not
oftener, at any one point of view. Everywhere was
variety in uniformity. It was a piece of " composition,"
in which the most fastidiously critical taste could scarcely
have suggested an emendation.

I had turned to the right as I entered this road, and
now, arising, I continued in the same direction. The

28 LANDOR'S COTTAGE.

path was so serpentine, that at no moment could I trace
its course for more than two or three paces in advance.
Its character did not undergo any material change.

Presently the murmur of water fell gently upon my ear
— and in a few moments afterward, as I turned with the
road somewhat more abruptly than hitherto, I became
aware that a building of some kind lay at the foot of a
gentle declivity just before me. I could see nothing dis-
tinctly on account of the mist which occupied all the little
valley below. A gentle breeze, however, now arose, as
the sun was about descending ; and while I remained
standing on the brow of the slope, the fog gradually
became dissipated into wreaths, and so floated over the
scene.

As it came fully into view — thus gradually as I describe
it — piece by piece, here a tree, there a glimpse of water,
and here again the summit of a chimney, I could scarcely
help fancying that the whole was one of the ingenious
illusions sometimes exhibited under the name of "var-
nishing pictures."

By the time, however, that the fog had thoroughly dis-
appeared, the sun had made its way down behind the
gentle hills, and thence, as if with a slight chassez to the
south, had come again fully into sight, glaring with a
purplish lustre through a chasm that entered the valley
from the west. Suddenly, therefore — and as if by the
hand of magic — this whole valley and every thing in it
became brilliantly visible.

LANDOR'S COTTAGE. 2g

The first coup d' ceil, as the sun slid into the position
described, impressed me very much as I have been im-
pressed, when a boy, by the concluding scene of some
well-arranged theatrical spectacle or melodrama. Not
even the monstrosity of color was wanting ; for the sun-
light came out through the chasm, tinted all orange and
purple ; while the vivid green of the grass in the valley
was reflected more or less upon all objects from the cur-
tain of vapor that still hung overhead, as if loth to take
its total departure from a scene so enchantingly beautiful.

The little vale into which I thus peered down from
under the fog-canopy could not have been more than four
hundred yards long ; while in breadth it varied from fifty
to one hundred and fifty or perhaps two hundred. It was
most narrow at its northern extremity, opening out as it
tended southwardly, but with no very precise regularity.
The widest portion was within eighty yards of the south-
ern extreme. The slopes which encompassed the vale
could not fairly be called hills, unless at their northern
face. Here a precipitous ledge of granite arose to a height
of some ninety feet ; and, as I have mentioned, the valley
at this point was not more than fifty feet wide ; but as
the visitor proceeded southwardly from this cliff, he found
on his right hand and on his left, declivities at once less
high, less precipitous, and less rocky. All, in a word,
sloped and softened to the south ; and yet the whole vale
was engirdled by eminences, more or less high, except at
two points. One of these I have already spoken of. It lay

30 LANDOR'S COTTAGE,

considerably to the north of west, and was where the set-
ting sun made its way, as I have before described, into
the amphitheatre, through a cleanly cut natural cleft in
the granite embankment ; this fissure might have been
ten yards wide at its widest point, so far as the eye could
trace it. It seemed to lead up, up, like a natural cause-
way, into the recesses of unexplored mountains and for-
ests. The other opening was directly at the southern end
of the vale. Here, generally, the slopes were nothing
more than gentle inclinations, extending from east to
west about one hundred and fifty yards. In the middle
of this extent was a depression, level with the ordinary
floor of the valley. As regards vegetation, as well as in
respect to every thing else, the scene softened and sloped
to the south. To the north — on the craggy precipice — a
few paces from the verge — up sprang the magnificent
trunks of numerous hickories, black walnuts, and chestnuts,
interspersed with occasional oak ; and the strong lateral
branches thrown out by the walnuts especially, spread far
over the edge of the cliff. Proceeding southwardly, the
explorer saw, at first, the same class of trees, but less and
less lofty and Salvatorish in character ; then he saw the
gentler elm, succeeded by the sassafras and locust — these
again by the softer linden, red-bud, catalpa, and maple —
these yet again by still more graceful and more modest
varieties. The whole face of the southern declivity was
covered with wild shrubbery alone — an occasional silver
willow or white poplar excepted. In the bottom of the

LAN DOR'S COTTAGE. 3 1

valley itself — (for it must be borne in mind that the vege-
tation hitherto mentioned grew only on the cliffs or hill-
sides)— were to be seen three insulated trees. One was an
elm of fine size and exquisite form : it stood guard over
the southern gate of the vale. Another was a hickory,
much larger than the elm, and altogether a much finer
tree, although both were exceedingly beautiful : it seemed
to have taken charge of the northwestern entrance, spring-
ing from a group of rocks in the very jaws of the ravine,
and throwing its graceful body, at an angle of nearly forty-
five degrees, far out into the sunshine of the amphitheatre.
About thirty yards east of this tree stood, however, the
pride of the valley, and beyond all question the most
magnificent tree I have ever seen, unless, perhaps, among
the cypresses of the Itchiatuckanee. It was a triple-
stemmed tulip-tree — the Liriodendron Tulipiferum — one of
the natural order of magnolias. Its three trunks separated
from the parent at about three feet from the soil, and
diverging very slightly and gradually, were not more than
four feet apart at the point where the largest stem shot
out into foliage : this was at an elevation of about eighty
feet. The whole height of the principal division was one
hundred and twenty feet. Nothing can surpass in beauty
the form, or the glossy, vivid green of the leaves of the
tulip-tree. In the present instance they were fully eight
inches wide ; but their glory was altogether eclipsed by
the gorgeous splendor of the profuse blossoms. Conceive,
closely congregated, a million of the largest and most

32 LAN DOR'S COTTAGE.

resplendent tulips ! Only thus can the reader get any
idea of the picture I would convey. And then the stately
grace of the clean, delicately-granulated columnar stems,
the largest four feet in diameter, at twenty from the
ground. The innumerable blossoms, mingling with those
of other trees scarcely less beautiful, although infinitely
less majestic, filled the valley with more than Arabian
perfumes.

The general floor of the amphitheatre was grass of the
same character as that I had found in the road ; if any
thing, more deliciously soft, thick, velvety, and miracu-
lously green. It was hard to conceive how all this beauty
had been attained.

I have spoken of two openings into the vale. From the
one to the north-west issued a rivulet, which came, gently
murmuring and slightly foaming, down the ravine, until it
dashed against the group of rocks out of which sprang the
insulated hickory. Here, after encircling the tree, it
passed on a little to the north of east, leaving the tulip
tree some twenty feet to the south, and making no de-
cided alteration in its course until it came near the mid-
way between the eastern and western boundaries of the
valley. At this point, after a series of sweeps, it turned
off at right angles and pursued a generally southern direc-
tion— meandering as it went — until it became lost in a
small lake of irregular figure (although roughly oval), that
lay gleaming near the lower extremity of the vale. This
lakelet was, perhaps, a hundred yards in diameter at its

LAN DOR'S COTTAGE. 33

widest part. No crystal could be clearer than its waters.
Its bottom, which could be distinctly seen, consisted alto-
gether of pebbles brilliantly white. Its banks, of the em-
erald grass already described, rounded, rather than sloped,
off into the clear heaven below ; and so clear was this
heaven, so perfectly, at times, did it reflect all objects
above it, that where the true bank ended and where the
mimic one commenced, it was a point of no little difficulty
to determine. The trout, and some other varieties of fish,
with which this pond seemed to be almost inconveniently
crowded, had all the appearance of veritable flying-fish.
It was almost impossible to believe that they were not
absolutely suspended in the air. A light birch canoe that
lay placidly on the water, was reflected in its minutest
fibres with a fidelity unsurpassed by the most exquisitely
polished mirror. A small island, fairly laughing with
flowers in full bloom, and affording little more space than
just enough for a picturesque little building, seeming-
ly a fowl-house — arose from the lake not far from its
northern shore — to which it was connected by means of
an inconceivably light-looking and yet very primitive
bridge. It was formed of a single, broad and thick plank
of the tulip wood. This was forty feet long, and spanned
the interval between shore and shore with a slight but
very perceptible arch, preventing all oscillation. From the
southern extreme of the lake issued a continuation of the
rivulet, which, after meandering for, perhaps, thirty yards,
finally passed through the " depression " (already de-

34 LANDORS COTTAGE.

scribed) in the middle of the southern declivity, and
tumbling down a sheer precipice of a hundred feet, made
its devious and unnoticed way to the Hudson.

The lake was deep — at some points thirty feet — but the
rivulet seldom exceeded three, while its greatest width
was about eight. Its bottom and banks were as those of
the pond — if a defect could have been attributed, in
point of picturesqueness, it was that of excessive neatness.

The expanse of the green turf was relieved, here and
there, by an occasional showy shrub, such as the hydran-
gea, or the common snow-ball, or the aromatic seringa ;
or, more frequently, by a clump of geraniums blossoming
gorgeously in great varieties. These latter grew in pots
which were carefully buried in the soil, so as to give the
plants the appearance of being indigeneous. Besides all
this, the lawn's velvet was exquisitely spotted with sheep
— a considerable flock of which roamed about the vale, in
company with three tamed deer, and a vast number of
brilliantly-plumed ducks. A very large mastiff seemed
to be in vigilant attendance upon these animals, each and
all.

Along the eastern and western cliffs — where, toward
the upper portion of the amphitheatre, the boundaries
were more or less precipitous — grew ivy in great profusion
— so that only here and there could even a glimpse of the
naked rock be obtained. The northern precipice, in like
manner, was almost entirely clothed by grape-vines of
rare luxuriance ; some springing from the soil at the base
of the cliff, and others from ledges on its face.

LANDOR'S COTTAGE. 35

The slight elevation which formed the lower boundary
of this little domain, was crowned by a neat stone wall, of
sufficient height to prevent the escape of the deer. Noth-
ing of the fence kind was observable elsewhere ; for no-
where else was an artificial enclosure needed : — any stray
sheep, for example, which should attempt to make its
way out of the vale by means of the ravine, would find
its progress arrested, after a few yards' advance, by the
precipitous ledge of rock over which tumbled the cas-
cade that had arrested my attention as I first drew
near the domain. In short, the only "ingress or egress
was through a gate occupying a rocky pass in the
road, a few paces below the point at which I stopped
to reconnoitre the scene.

I have described the brook as meandering very irregu-
larly through the whole of its course. Its two general
directions, as I have said, were first from west to east,
and then from north to south. At the turn, the stream,
sweeping backward, made an almost circular loop, so as
to form a peninsula which was very nearly an island,
and which included about the sixteenth of an acre. On
this peninsula stood a dwelling-house — and when I say
that this house, like the infernal terrace seen by Vat-
hek, " etait cly une architecture inconnue dans les annales
de la terre" I mean, merely, that its tout ensemble struck
me with the keenest sense of combined novelty and
propriety — in a word, of poetry — (for, than in the words
just employed, I could scarcely give, of poetry in the

36 LANDOR'S COTTAGE.

abstract, a more rigorous definition) — and I do not mean
that merely outre was perceptible in any respect.

In fact nothing could well be more simple — more ut-
terly unpretending than this cottage. Its marvellous
effect lay altogether in its artistic arrangement as a picture,
I could have fancied, while I looked at it, that some emi-
nent landscape-painter had built it with his brush.

The point of view from which I first saw the valley,
was not altogether, although it was nearly, the best point
from which to survey the house. I will therefore describe
it as I afterwards saw it — from a position on the stone
wall at the southern extreme of the amphitheatre.

The main building was about twenty-four feet 'long and
sixteen broad — certainly not more. Its total height, from
the ground to the apex of the roof, could not have ex-
ceeded eighteen feet. To the west end of this structure
was attached one about a third smaller in all its propor-
tions : — the line of its front standing back about two yards
from that of the larger house ; and the line of its roof, of
course, being considerably depressed below that of the
roof adjoining. At right angles to these buildings, and
from the rear of the main one — not exactly in the middle
— extended a third compartment, very small — being, in
general, one third less than the western wing. The roofs
of the two larger were very steep — sweeping down from
the ridge-beam with a long concave curve, and extending
at least four feet beyond the walls in front, so as to form
the roofs of two piazzas. These latter roofs, of course,

LAN DOR'S COTTAGE, 37

needed no support ; but as they had the air of needing it,
slight and perfectly plain pillars were inserted at the cor-
ners alone. The roof of the northern wing was merely an
extension of a portion of the main roof. Between the
chief building and western wing arose a very tall and rather
slender square chimney of hard Dutch bricks, alternately
black and red : — a slight cornice of projecting bricks at
the top. Over the gables the roofs also projected very
much : — in the main building about four feet to the east
and two to the west. The principal door was not
exactly in the main division, being a little to the east —
while the two windows were to the west. These latter
did not extend to the floor, but were much longer and
narrower than usual — they had single shutters like doors
— the panes were of lozenge form, but quite large. The
door itself had its upper half of glass, also in lozenge
panes — a moveable shutter secured it at night. The door
to the west wing was in its gable, and quite simple — a
single window looked out to the south. There was no
external door to the north wing, and it also had only one
window to the east.

The blank wall of the eastern gable was relieved by
stairs (with a ballustrade) running diagonally across it
— the ascent being from the south. Under cover of the
widely projecting eave these steps gave access to a door
leading into the garret, or rather loft — for it was lighted
only by a single window to the north, and seemed to have
been intended as a store room.

38 LANDOR'S COTTAGE.

The piazzas of the main building and western wing had
no floors, as is usual ; but at the doors and at each window,
large, flat, irregular slabs of granite lay imbedded in the
delicious turf, affording comfortable footing in all weather.
Excellent paths of the same material — not nicely adapted,
but with the velvety sod filling frequent intervals between
the stones, led hither and thither from the house, to a
crystal spring about five paces off, to the road, or to one
or two out-houses that lay to the north, beyond the
brook, and were thoroughly concealed by a few locusts
and catalpas.

Not more than six steps from the main door of the
cottage stood the dead trunk of a fantastic pear-tree, so
clothed from head to foot in the gorgeous bignonia blos-
soms that one required no little scrutiny to determine
what manner of sweet thing it could be. From various
arms of this tree hung cages of different kinds. In one,
a large wicker cylinder with a ring at top, revelled a
mocking bird ; in another an oriole ; in a third the impu-
dent bobolink — while three or four more delicate prisons
were loudly vocal with canaries.

The pillars of the piazza were enwreathed in jasmine
and sweet honeysuckle ; while from the angle formed by
the main structure and its west wing, in front, sprang a
grape-vine of unexampled luxuriance. Scorning all re-
straint, it had clambered first to the lower roof — then to
the higher ; and along the ridge of this latter it continued
to writhe on, throwing out tendrils to the right and left,

LAN DOR'S COTTAGE. 39

until at length it fairly attained the east gable, and fell
trailing over the stairs.

The whole house, with its wings, was constructed of the
old-fashioned Dutch shingles — broad, and with unrounded
corners. It is a peculiarity of this material to give houses
built of it the appearance of being wider at bottom than
at top — after the manner of Egyptian architecture ; and
in the present instance, this exceedingly picturesque effect
was aided by numerous pots of gorgeous flowers that
almost encompassed the base of the buildings.

The shingles were painted a dull gray ; and the happi-
ness with which this neutral tint melted into the vivid
green of the tulip tree leaves that partially overshadowed
the cottage, can readily be conceived by an artist.

From the position near the stone wall, as described, the
buildings were seen at great advantage — for the south-
eastern angle was thrown forward — so that the eye took
in at once the whole of the two fronts, with the pict-
uresque eastern gable, and at the same time obtained just
a sufficient glimpse of the northern wing, with parts of a
pretty roof to the spring-house, and nearly half of a light
bridge that spanned the brook in the near vicinity of the
main buildings.

I did not remain very long on the brow of the hill,
although long enough to make a thorough survey of the
scene at my feet. It was clear that I had wandered from
the road to the village, and I had thus good travellers'
excuse to open the gate before me, and inquire my way,
at all events ; so, without more ado, I proceeded.

40 LAND OR' S COTTAGE.

The road, after passing the gate, seemed to lie upon a
natural ledge, sloping gradually down along the face of
the north-eastern cliffs. It led me on to the foot of the
northern precipice, and thence over the bridge, round by
the eastern gable to the front door. In this progress, I
took notice that no sight of the out-houses could be ob-
tained.

As I turned the corner of the gable, the mastiff bounded
towards me in stern silence, but with the eye and the
whole air of a tiger. I held him out my hand, however,
in token of amity — and I never yet knew the dog who
was proof against such an appeal to his courtesy. He
not only shut his mouth and wagged his tail, but abso-
lutely offered me his paw — afterward extending his civili-
ties to Ponto.

As no bell was discernable, I rapped with my stick
against the door, which stood half open. Instantly a
figure advanced to the threshold — that of a young woman
about twenty-eight years of age — slender, or rather slight,
and somewhat above the medium height. As she ap-
proached, with a certain modest decision of step altogether
indescribable, I said to myself, " Surely here I have found
the perfection of natural, in contradistinction from artifi-
cial grace." The second impression which she made on
me, but by far the more vivid of the two, was that of
enthusiasm. So intense an expression of romance, per-
haps I should call it, or of unworldliness, as that which
gleamed from her deep-set eyes, had never so sunk into

LANDOKS COTTAGE. 4 1

my heart of hearts before. I know not how it is, but this
peculiar expression of the eye, wreathing itself occasion-
ally into the lips, is the most powerful, if not absolutely
the sole spell, which rivets my interest in woman. " Ro-
mance" provided my readers fully comprehend what I
would here imply by the word — " romance " and " woman-
liness " seem to me convertible terms : and, after all,
what man truly loves in woman, is simply, her womanhood.
The eyes of Annie (I heard some one from the interior
call her " Annie, darling! ") were "spiritual gray;" her
hair, a light chestnut : this is all I had time to observe
of her.

At her most courteous of invitations, I entered — pass-
ing first into a tolerably wide vestibule. Having come
mainly to observe, I took notice that to my right as I
stepped in, was a window, such as those in front of the
house ; to the left, a door leading into the principal room ;
while, opposite me, an open door enabled me to see a
small apartment, just the size of the vestibule, arranged
as a study, and having a large bow window looking out to
the north.

Passing into the parlor, I found myself with Mr. Landor
— for this, I afterwards found, was his name. He was
civil, even cordial in his manner; but just then, I was
more intent on observing the arrangements of the dwell-
ing which had so much interested me, than the personal
appearance of the tenant.

The north wing, I now saw, was a bed-chamber; its

42 LANDORS COTTAGE.

door opened into the parlor. West of this door was a
single window, looking toward the brook. At the west
end of the parlor, were a fire-place, and a door leading
into the west wing — probably a kitchen.

Nothing could be more rigorously simple than the
furniture of the parlor. On the floor was an ingrain
carpet, of excellent texture — a white ground, spotted
with small circular green figures. At the windows were
curtains of snowy white jaconet muslin : they were toler-
ably full, and hung decisively, perhaps rather formally, in
sharp, parallel plaits to the floor— -just to the floor. The
walls were papered with a French paper of great delicacy
a silver ground, with a faint green cord running zig-zag
throughout. Its expanse was relieved merely by three of
Julien's exquisite lithographs a trois crayons, fastened to
the wall without frames. One of these drawings was a
scene of Oriental luxury, or rather voluptuousness; an-
other was a "carnival piece," spirited beyond compare;
the third was a Greek female head — a face so divinely
beautiful, and yet of an expression so provokingly inde-
terminate, never before arrested my attention.

The more substantial furniture consisted of a round
table, a few chairs (including a large rocking-chair), and a
sofa, or rather " settee " : its material was plain maple
painted a creamy white, slightly interstriped with green —
the seat of cane. The chairs and table were " to match " ;
but the forms of all had evidently been designed by the
same brain which planned " the grounds" : it is impossible
to conceive any thing more graceful.

LANDOR'S COTTAGE. 43

On the table were a few books ; a large, square, crystal
bottle of some novel perfume ; a plain, ground glass
astral (not solar) lamp, with an Italian shade ; and a large
vase of resplendently-blooming flowers. Flowers indeed
of gorgeous colors and delicate odor formed the sole mere
decoration of the apartment. The fire-place was nearly
filled with a vase of brilliant geranium. On a triangular
shelf in each angle of the room stood also a similar vase,
varied only as to its lovely contents. One or two smaller
bouquets adorned the mantel ; and late violets clustered
about the open windows.

It is not the purpose of this work to do more than
give, in detail, a picture of Mr. Landor's residence —
as I found it.

WILLIAM WILSON.

What say of it ? what say conscience grim,
That spectre in my path ?

— Chamberlain's Pharronida.

LET me call myself, for the present, William Wilson.
The fair page now lying before me need not
be sullied with my real appellation. This has been al-
ready too much an object for the scorn — for the horror —
for the detestation of my race. To the uttermost regions
of the globe have not the indignant winds bruited its un-
paralleled infamy ? Oh, outcast of all outcasts most aban-
doned ! — to the earth art thou not for ever dead? to its
honors, to its flowers, to its golden aspirations ? — and a
cloud, dense, dismal, and limitless, does it not hang
eternally between thy hopes and heaven ?

I would not, if I could, here or to-day, embody a record
of my later years of unspeakable misery, and unpardonable
crime. This epoch — these later years — took unto them-
selves a sudden elevation in turpitude, whose origin alone
it is my present purpose to assign. Men usually grow
base by degrees. From me, in an instant, all virtue

WILLIAM WILSON. 45

dropped bodily as a mantle. From comparatively trivial
wickedness I passed, with the stride of a giant, into more
than the enormities of an Elah-Gabalus. What chance —
what one event brought this evil thing to pass, bear with
me while I relate. Death approaches ; and the shadow
which foreruns him has thrown a softening influence over
my spirit. I long, in passing through the dim valley, for
the sympathy — I had nearly said for the pity — of my fel-
low men. I would fain have them believe that I have
been, in some measure, the slave of circumstances beyond
human control. I would wish them to seek out for
me, in the details I am about to give, some little oasis of
fatality amid a wilderness of error. I would have them
allow — what they cannot refrain from allowing — that,
although temptation may have erewhile existed as great,
man was never t/ius, at least, tempted before — certainly,
never thus fell. And is it therefore that he has never thus
suffered ? Have I not indeed been living in a dream ?
And am I not now dying a victim to the horror and the
mystery of the wildest of all sublunary visions ?

I am the descendant of a race whose imaginative and
easily excitable temperament has at all times rendered
them remarkable ; and, in my earliest infancy, I gave evi-
dence of having fully inherited the family character. As
I advanced in years it was more strongly developed ; be-
coming, for many reasons, a cause of serious disquietude
to my friends, and of positive injury to myself. I grew
self-willed, addicted to the wildest caprices, and a prey to

46 WILLIAM WILSON.

the most ungovernable passions. Weak-minded, and be-
set with constitutional infirmities akin to my own, my pa-
rents could do but little to check the evil propensities
which distinguished me. Some feeble and ill-directed
efforts resulted in complete failure on their part, and,
of course, in total triumph on mine. Thenceforward my
voice was a household law ; and at an age when few chil-
dren have abandoned their leading-strings, I was left
to the guidance of my own will, and became, in all but
name, the master of my own actions.

My earliest recollections of a school-life, are connected
with a large, rambling, Elizabethan house, in a misty-look-
ing village of England, where were a vast number of
gigantic and gnarled trees, and where all the houses were
excessively ancient. In truth, it was a dream-like and
spirit-soothing place, that venerable old town. At this
moment, in fancy, I feel the refreshing chilliness of its
deeply-shadowed avenues, inhale the fragrance of its thou-
sand shrubberies, and thrill anew with undefinable delight,
at the deep hollow note of the church-bell, breaking, each
hour, with sullen and sudden roar, upon the stillness of
the dusky atmosphere in which the fretted Gothic steeple
lay imbedded and asleep.

It gives me, perhaps, as much of pleasure as I can now
in any manner experience, to dwell upon minute recollec-
tions of the school and its concerns. Steeped in misery
as I am — misery, alas ! only too real — I shall be pardoned
for seeking relief, however slight and temporary, in the

WILLIAM WILSON. 47

weakness of a few rambling details. These, moreover,
utterly trivial, and even ridiculous in themselves, assume,
to my fancy, adventitious importance, as connected with
a period and a locality when and where I recognize
the first ambiguous monitions of the destiny which after-
ward so fully overshadowed me. Let me then re-
member.

The house, I have said, was old and irregular. The
grounds were extensive, and a high and solid brick wall,
topped with a bed of mortar and broken glass, encom-
passed the whole. This prison- like rampart formed the
limit of our domain ; beyond it we saw but thrice a week
— once every Saturday afternoon, when, attended by two
ushers, we were permitted to take brief walks in a body
through some of the neighboring-fields — and twice during
Sunday, when we were paraded in the same formal man-
ner to the morning and evening service in the one church
of the village. Of this church the principal of our school
was pastor. With how deep a spirit of wonder and per-
plexity was I wont to regard him from our remote pew in
the gallery, as, with step solemn and slow, he ascended
the pulpit! This reverend man, with countenance so
demurely benign, with robes so glossy and so clerically
flowing, with wig so minutely powdered, so rigid and so
vast, — could this be he who, of late, with sour visage, and
in snuffy habiliments, administered, ferule in hand, the
Draconian Laws of the academy ? Oh, gigantic paradox,
too utterly monstrous for solution !

48 WILLIAM WILSON.

At an angle of the ponderous wall frowned a more pon-
derous gate. It was rivited and studded with iron bolts,
and surmounted with jagged iron spikes. What impres-
sions of deep awe did it inspire ! It was never opened
save for the three periodical egressions and ingressions
already mentioned ; then, in every creak of its mighty
hinges, we found a plentitude of mystery — a world of
matter for solemn remark, or for more solemn meditation.

The extensive enclosure was irregular in form, having
many capacious recesses. Of these, three or four of the
largest constituted the play-ground. It was level, and
covered with fine hard gravel. I well remember it had no
trees, nor benches, nor any thing similar within it. Of
course it was in the rear of the house. In front lay a small
parterre, planted with b6x and other shrubs, but through
this sacred division we passed only upon rare occasions
indeed — such as a first advent to school or final departure
thence, or perhaps, when a parent or friend having called
for us, we joyfully took our way home for the Christmas
or Midsummer holidays.

But the house ! — how quaint an old building was this !
— to me how veritably a palace of enchantment ! There
was really no end to its windings — to its incomprehensible
subdivisions. It was difficult, at any given time, to say
with certainty upon which of its two stories one happened
to be. From each room to every other there were sure
to be found three or four steps either in ascent or descent.
Then the lateral branches were innumerable — inconceiv-

WILLIAM WILSON. 49

able — and so returning in upon themselves, that our most
exact ideas in regard to the whole mansion were not very
far different from those with which we pondered upon in-
finity. During the five years of my residence here, I was
never able to ascertain with precision, in what remote
locality lay the little sleeping apartment assigned to my-
self and some eighteen or twenty other scholars.

The school-room was the largest in the house — I could
not help thinking, in the world. It was very long, narrow,
and dismally low, with pointed Gothic windows and a
ceiling of oak. In a remote and terror-inspiring angle was
a square enclosure of eight or ten feet, comprising the
sanctum, " during hours," of our principal, the Reverend
Dr. Bransby. It was a solid structure, with massy door,
sooner than open which in the absence of the " Dominie,"
we would all have willingly perished by the peine forte ct
dure. In other angles were two other similar boxes, far
less reverenced, indeed, but still greatly matters of awe.
One of these was the pulpit of the " classical " usher, one
of the " English and mathematical." Interspersed about
the room, crossing and recrossing in endless irregularity,
were innumerable benches and desks, black, ancient, and
time-worn, piled desperately with much bethumbed books,
and so beseamed with initial letters, names at full length,
grotesque figures, and other multiplied efforts of the knife,
as to have entirely lost what little of original form might
have been their portion in days long departed. A huge
bucket with water stood at one extremity of the room,
and a clock of stupendous dimensions at the other.

50 WILLIAM WILSON.

Encompassed by the massy walls of this venerable
academy, I passed, yet not in tedium or disgust, the years
of the third lustrum of my life. The teeming brain of
childhood requires no external world of incident to occu-
py or amuse it ; and the apparently dismal monotony of
a school was replete with more intense excitement than
my riper youth has derived from luxury, or my full man-
hood from crime. Yet I must believe that my first
mental development had in it much of the uncommon —
even much of the outre. Upon mankind at large the
events of very early existence rarely leave in mature age
any definite impression. All is gray shadow — a weak
and irregular remembrance — an indistinct regathering of
feeble pleasures and phantasmagoric pains. With me this
is not so. In childhood I must have felt with the energy
of a man what I now find stamped upon memory in lines
as vivid, as deep, and as durable as the exergues of the
Carthaginian medals.

Yet in fact — in the fact of the world's view — how little
was there to remember ! The morning's awakening, the
nightly summons to bed ; the connings, the recitations ;
the periodical half-holidays, and perambulations ; the
play-ground, with its broils, its pastimes, its intrigues ; —
these, by a mental sorcery long forgotten, were made to
involve a wilderness of sensation, a world of rich incident,
an universe of varied emotion, of excitement the most
passionate and spirit-stirring. " Oh, le bon temps, que ce
siecle de fer ! "

WILLIAM WILSON: 5 I

In truth, the ardor, the enthusiasm, and the imperious-
ness of my disposition, soon rendered me a marked char-
acter among my schoolmates, and by slow, but natural
gradations, gave me an ascendancy over all not greatly
older than myself; — over all with a single exception.
This exception was found in the person of a scholar, who,
although no relation, bore the same christian and surname
as myself ; — a circumstance, in fact, little remarkable ;
for, notwithstanding a noble descent, mine was one of
those everyday appellations which seem, by prescriptive
right, to have been, time out of mind, the common prop-
erty of the mob. In this narrative I have therefore des-
ignated myself as William Wilson, — a fictitious title not
very dissimilar to the real. My namesake alone, of those
who in school phraseology constituted " our set," pre-
sumed to compete with me in the studies of the class — in
the sports and broils of the play-ground — to refuse
implicit belief in my assertions, and submission to my
will — indeed, to interfere with my arbitrary dictation in
any respect whatsoever. If there is on earth a supreme
and unqualified despotism, it is the despotism of a master-
mind in boyhood over the less energetic spirits of its com-
panions.

Wilson's rebellion was to me a source of the greatest
embarrassment ; the more so as, in spite of the bravado
with which in public I made a point of treating him and
his pretensions, I secretly felt that I feared him, and could
not help thinking the equality which he maintained so

52 WILLIAM WILSON.

easily with myself, a proof of his true superiority ; since
not to be overcome cost me a perpetual struggle. Yet
this superiority — even this equality — was in truth acknowl-
edged by no one but myself; our associates, by some
unaccountable blindness, seemed not even to suspect it.
Indeed, his competition, his resistance, and especially his
impertinent and dogged interference with my purposes,
were not more pointed than private. He appeared to be
destitute alike of the ambition which urged, and of the
passionate energy of mind which enabled me to excel. In
his rivalry he might have been supposed actuated solely
by a whimsical desire to thwart, astonish, or mortify
myself ; although there were times when I could not help
observing, with a feeling made up of wonder, abasement,
and pique, that he mingled with his injuries, his insults,
or his contradictions, a certain most inappropriate, and
assuredly most unwelcome affectionateness of manner. I
could only conceive this singular behavior to arise from
a consummate self-conceit assuming the vulgar airs of pat-
ronage and protection.

Perhaps it was this latter trait in Wilson's conduct, con-
joined with our identity of name, and the mere accident
of our having entered the school upon the same day,
which set afloat the notion that we were brothers, among
the senior classes in the academy. These do not usually
inquire with much strictness into the affairs of their
juniors. I have before said, or should have said, that
Wilson was not, in a most remote degree, connected with

WILLIAM WILSON. 53

my family. But assuredly if we had been brothers we
must have been twins ; for, after leaving Dr. Bransby's, I
casually learned that my namesake was born on the nine-
teenth of January, 1813 — and this is a somewhat remark-
able coincidence ; for the day is precisely that of my own
nativity.

It may seem strange that in spite of the continual anx-
iety occasioned me by the rivalry of Wilson, and his in-
tolerable spirit of contradiction, I could not bring myself
to hate him altogether. We had, to be sure, nearly every
day a quarrel in which, yielding me publicly the palm of
victory, he, in some manner, contrived to make me feel
that it was he who had deserved it ; yet a sense of pride
on my part, and a veritable dignity on his own, kept us
always upon what are called " speaking terms," while
there were many points of strong congeniality in our tem-
pers, operating to awake in me a sentiment which our po-
sition alone, perhaps, prevented from ripening into friend-
ship. It is difficult, indeed, to define, or even to describe,
my real feelings toward him. They formed a motly and
heterogeneous admixture; — some petulant animosity,
which was not yet hatred, some esteem, more respect,
much fear, with a world of uneasy curiosity. To the
moralist it will be necessary to say, in addition, that Wil-
son and myself were the most inseparable of companions.

It was no doubt the anomalous state of affairs existing
between us, which turned all my attacks upon him, (and
there were many, either open or covert) into the channel

54 WILLIAM WILSON-.

of banter or practical joke (giving pain while assuming the
aspect of mere fun) rather than into a more serious and
determined hostility. But my endeavors on this head
were by no means uniformly successful, even when my
plans were the most wittily concocted ; for my namesake
had much about him, in character, of that unassuming and
quiet austerity which, while enjoying the poignancy of its
own jokes, has no heel of Achilles in itself, and absolutely
refuses to be laughed at. I could find, indeed, but one
vulnerable point, and that, lying in a personal peculiarity,
arising, perhaps, from constitutional disease, would have
been spared by any antagonist less at his wit's end than
myself ; — my rival had a weakness in the faucial or gut-
tural organs, which precluded him from raising his voice
at any time above a very low whisper. Of this defect I
did not fail to take what poor advantage lay in my power.
Wilson's retaliations in kind were many ; and there was
one form of his practical wit that disturbed me beyond
measure. How his sagacity first discovered at all that so
petty a thing would vex me, is a question I never could
solve ; but having discovered, he habitually practised the
annoyance. I had always felt aversion to my uncourtly
patronymic, and its very common, if not plebeian prae-
nomen. The words were venom in my ears ; and when,
upon the day of my arrival, a second William Wilson
came also to the academy, I felt angry with him for bear-
ing the name, and doubly disgusted with the name be-
cause a stranger bore it, who would be the cause of its

WILLIAM WILSON. 55

twofold repetition, who would be constantly in my pres-
ence, and whose concerns, in the ordinary routine of the
school business, must inevitably, on account of the detest-
able coincidence, be often confounded with my own.

The feeling of vexation thus engendered grew stronger
with every circumstance tending to show resemblance,
moral or physical, between my rival and myself. I had
not then discovered the remarkable fact that we were of
the same age ; but I saw that we were of the same height,
and I perceived that we were even singularly alike in gen-
eral contour of person and outline of feature. I was
galled, too, by the rumor touching a relationship, which
had grown current in the upper forms. In a word,
nothing could more seriously disturb me, (although I
scrupulously concealed such disturbance,) than any allus-
ion to a similarity of mind, person, or condition existing
between us. But, in truth, I had no reason to believe
that (with the exception of the matter of relationship,
and in the case of Wilson himself,) this similarity had ever
been made a subject of comment, or even observed at all
by our schoolfellows. That he observed it in all its bear-
ings, and as fixedly as I, was apparent ; but that he could
discover in such circumstances so fruitful a field of annoy-
ance, can only be attributed, as I said before, to his more
than ordinary penetration.

His cue, which was to perfect an imitation of myself,
lay both in words and in actions ; and most admirably did
he play his part. My dress it was an easy matter to copy ;

56 WILLIAM WILSON.

my gait and general manner were without difficulty, ap-
propriated ; in spite of his constitutional defect, even my
voice did not escape him. My louder tones were, of
course, unattempted, but then the key, — it was identical ;
and his singular whisper ', it grew the very echo of my own.

How greatly this most exquisite portraiture harassed
me (for it could not justly be termed a caricature), I will
not now venture to describe. I had but one consolation
— in the fact that the imitation, apparently, was noticed by
myself alone, and that I had to endure only the knowing
and strangely sarcastic smiles of my namesake himself.
Satisfied with having produced in my bosom the intended
effect, he seemed to chuckle in secret over the sting he
had inflicted, and was characteristically disregardful of the
public applause which the success of his witty endeavors
might have so easily elicited. That the school, indeed,
did not feel his design, perceive its accomplishment, and
participate in his sneer, was, for many anxious months, a
riddle I could not resolve. Perhaps the gradation of his
copy rendered it not readily perceptible ; or, more possi-
bly, I owed my security to the masterly air of the copyist,
who, disdaining the letter (which in a painting is all the
obtuse can see), gave but the full spirit of his original for
my individual contemplation and chagrin.

I have already more than once spoken of the disgusting
air of patronage which he assumed toward me, and of his
frequent officious interference with my will. This inter-
ference often took the ungracious character of advice ; ad-

WILLIAM WILSON. 57

vice not openly given, but hinted or insinuated. I re-
ceived it with a repugnance which gained strength as I
grew in years. Yet, at this distant day, let me do him the
simple justice to acknowledge that I can recall no occa-
sion when the suggestions of my rival were on the side of
those errors or follies so usual to his immature age and
seeming inexperience ; that his moral sense, at least, if
not his general talents and wordly wisdom, was far keener
than my own ; and that I might, to-day, have been a bet-
ter and thus a happier man, had I less frequently rejected
the counsels embodied in those meaning whispers which I
then but too cordially hated and too bitterly despised.

As it was I at length grew restive in the extreme under
his distasteful supervision, and daily resented more and
more openly, what I considered his intolerable arrogance..
I have said that, in the first years of our connection as
schoolmates, my feelings in regard to him might have
been easily ripened into friendship ; but, in the latter
months of my residence at the academy, although the in-
trusion of his ordinary manner had, beyond doubt, in some
measure, abated, my sentiments, in nearly similar propor-
tion, partook very much of positive hatred. Upon one
occasion he saw this, I think, and afterward avoided, or
made a show of avoiding me.

It was about the same period, if I remember aright,
that, in an altercation of violence with him, in which he
was more than usually thrown off his guard, and spoke
and acted with an openness of demeanor rather foreign to

58 WILLIAM WILSON.

his nature, I discovered, or fancied I discovered, in his ac-
cent, in his air, and general appearance, a something
which first startled, and then deeply interested me, by
bringing to mind dim visions of my earliest infancy — wild,
confused, and thronging memories of a time when mem-
ory herself was yet unborn. I cannot better describe the
sensation which oppressed me, than by saying that I
could with difficulty shake off the belief of my having
been acquainted with the being who stood before me, at
some epoch very long ago — some point of the past even
infinitely remote. The delusion, however, faded rapidly
as it came; and I mention it at all but to define the day of
the last conversation I there held with my singular name-
sake.

The huge old house, with its countless subdivisions,
had several large chambers communicating with each
other, where slept the greater number of the students.
There were, however (as must necessarily happen in a
building so awkwardly planned), many little nooks or
recesses, the odds and ends of the structure ; and these
the economic ingenuity of Dr. Bransby had also fitted up
as dormitories ; although, being the merest closets, they
were capable of accommodating but a single individual.
One of these small apartments was occupied by Wilson.

One night, about the close of my fifth year at the
school, and immediately after the altercation just men-
tioned, finding every one wrapped in sleep, I arose from
bed, and, lamp in hand, stole through a wilderness of nar-

WILLIAM WILSON. 59

row passages, from my own bedroom to that of my rival.
I had long been plotting one of those ill-natured pieces of
practical wit at his expense in which I had hitherto been
so uniformly unsuccessful. It was my intention, now, to
put my scheme in operation and I resolved to make him
feel the whole extent of the malice with which I was im-
bued. Having reached his closet, I noiselessly entered,
leaving the lamp, with a shade over it, on the outside. I
advanced a step and listened to the sound of his tranquil
breathing. Assured of his being asleep, I returned, took
the light, and with it again approached the bed. Close
curtains were around it, which, in the prosecution of my
plan, I slowly and quietly withdrew, when the bright rays
fell vividly upon the sleeper, and my eyes at the same
moment, upon his countenance. I looked ; — and a numb-
ness, an iciness of feeling instantly pervaded my frame.
My breast heaved, my knees tottered, my whole spirit be-
came possessed with an objectless yet intolerable horror.
Gasping for breath, I lowered the lamp in still nearer
proximity to the face. Were these — these the lineaments
of William Wilson ? I saw, indeed, that they were his,
but I shook as if with a fit of the ague, in fancying they
were not. What was there about them to confound me
in this manner ? I gazed ; — while my brain reeled with a
multitude of incoherent thoughts. Not thus he appeared
— assuredly not thus — in the vivacity of his waking hours.
The same name ! the same contour of person ! the same
day of arrival at the academy! And then his dogged

60 WILLIAM WILSON.

and meaningless imitation of my gait, my voice, my hab-
its, and my manner ! Was it, in truth, within the bounds
of human possibility, that what I now saw was the result,
merely, of the habitual practice of this sarcastic imitation ?
Awe-stricken, and with a creeping shudder, I extinguished
the lamp, passed silently from the chamber, and left, at
once, the halls of that old academy, never to enter them
again.

After a lapse of some months, spent at home in mere
idleness, I found myself a student at Eton. The brief
interval had been sufficient to enfeeble my remembrance
of the events at Dr. Bransby's, or at least to effect a
material change in the nature of the feelings with which
I remembered them. The truth — the tragedy — of the
drama was no more. I could now find room to doubt
the evidence of my senses; and seldom called up the
subject at all but with wonder at the extent of human
credulity, and a smile at the vivid force of the imagination
which I hereditarily possessed. Neither was this species
of skepticism likely to be diminished by the character of
the life I led at Eton. The vortex of thoughtless folly
into which I there so immediately and so recklessly
plunged, washed away all but the froth of my past hours,
ingulfed at once every solid or serious impression, and
left to memory only the veriest levities of a former
existence.

I do not wish, however, to trace the course of my
miserable profligacy here — a profligacy which set at defi-

WILLIAM WILSON. 6 1

ance the laws, while it eluded the vigilance of the institu-
tion. Three years of folly, passed without profit, had but
given me rooted habits of vice, and added, in a somewhat
unusual degree, to my bodily stature, when, after a week
of soulless dissipation, I invited a small party of the most
dissolute students to a secret carousal in my chambers.
We met at a late hour of the night ; for our debaucheries
were to be faithfully protracted until morning. The wine
flowed freely, and there were not wanting other and per-
haps more dangerous seductions ; so that the gray dawn
had already faintly appeared in the east while our de-
lirious extravagance was at its height. Madly flushed
with cards and intoxication, I was in the act of insisting
upon a toast of more than wonted profanity, when my
attention was suddenly diverted by the violent, although
partial, unclosing of the door of the apartment, and by
the eager voice of a servant from without. He said that
some person, apparently in great haste, demanded to
speak with me in the hall.

Wildly excited with wine, the unexpected interruption
rather delighted than surprised me. I staggered forward
at once, and a few steps brought me to the vestibule of
the building. In this low and small room there hung no
lamp ; and now no light at all was admitted, save that of
the exceedingly feeble dawn which made its way through
the semi-circular window. As I put my foot over the
threshold, I became aware of the figure of a youth about
my own height, and habited in a white kerseymere morn-

62 WILLIAM WILSON.

ing frock, cut in the novel fashion of the one I myself
wore at the moment. This the faint light enabled me to
perceive ; but the features of his face I could not distin-
guish. Upon my entering, he strode hurriedly up to me,
and, seizing me by the arm with a gesture of petulant
impatience, whispered the words " William Wilson " in
my ear.

I grew perfectly sober in an instant.

There was that in the manner of the stranger, and in
the tremulous shake of his uplifted finger, as he held it
between my eyes and the light, which filled me with un-
qualified amazement ; but it was not this which had so
violently moved me. It was the pregnancy of solemn
admonition in the singular, low, hissing utterance ; and,
above all, it was the character, the tone, the key, of those
few, simple, and familiar, yet whispered syllables, which
came with a thousand thronging memories of by-gone
days, and struck upon my soul with the shock of a gal-
vanic battery. Ere I could recover the use of my senses
he was gone.

Although this event failed not of a vivid effect upon
my disordered imagination, yet was it evanescent as
vivid. For some weeks, indeed, I busied myself in
earnest enquiry, or was wrapped in a cloud of morbid
speculation. I did not pretend to disguise from my per-
ception the identity of the singular individual who thus
perseveringly interfered with my affairs, and harassed me
with his insinuated counsel. But who and what was this

WILLIAM WILSON. 63

Wilson ? — and whence came he? — and what were his pur-
poses ? Upon neither of these points could I be satisfied
— merely ascertaining, in regard to him, that a sudden
accident in his family had caused his removal from Dr.
Bransby's academy on the afternoon of the day in which
I myself had eloped. But in a brief period I ceased to
think upon the subject, my attention being all absorbed
in a contemplated departure for Oxford. Thither I soon
went, the uncalculating vanity of my parents furnishing
me with an outfit and annual establishment, which would
enable me to indulge at will in the luxury already so dear
to my heart — to vie in profuseness of expenditure with
the haughtiest heirs of the wealthiest earldoms in Great
Britain.

Excited by such appliances to vice, my constitutional
temperament broke forth with redoubled ardor, and I
spurned even the common restraints of decency in the
mad infatuation of my revels. But it were absurd to
pause in the detail of my extravagance. Let it suffice,
that among spendthrifts I out-Heroded Herod, and that,
giving name to a multitude of novel follies, I added no
brief appendix to the long catalogue of vices then usual
in the most dissolute university of Europe.

It could hardly be credited, however, that I had, even
here, so utterly fallen from the gentlemanly estate, as to
seek acquaintance with the vilest arts of the gambler by
profession, and, having become an adept in his despicable
science, to practice it habitually as a means of increasing

64 WILLIAM WILSON.

my already enormous income at the expense of the weak-
minded among my fellow-collegians. Such, nevertheless,
was the fact. And the very enormity of this offence
against all manly and honorable sentiment proved, beyond
doubt, the main if not the sole reason of the impunity
with which it was committed. Who, indeed, among my
most abandoned associates, would not rather have dis-
puted the clearest evidence of his senses, than have sus-
pected of such courses, the gay, the frank, the generous
William Wilson — the noblest and most liberal commoner
at Oxford — him whose follies (said his parasites) were but
the follies of youth and unbridled fancy — whose errors
but inimitable whim — whose darkest vice but a careless
and dashing extravagance ?

I had been now two years successfully busied in this
way, when there came to the university a young parvenu
nobleman, Glendinning — rich, said report, as H erodes
Atticus — his riches, too, as easily acquired. I soon found
him of weak intellect, and, of course, marked him as a
fitting subject for my skill. I frequently engaged him in
play, and contrived, with the gambler's usual art, to
let him win considerable sums, the more effectually to
entangle him in my snares. At length, my schemes
being ripe, I met him (with the full intention that this
meeting should be final and decisive) at the chambers of
a fellow-commoner (Mr. Preston), equally intimate with
both, but who, to do him justice, entertained not even a
remote suspicion of my design. To give to this a better

WILLIAM WILSON. 6$

coloring, I had contrived to have assembled a party of
some eight or ten, and was solicitously careful that the
introduction of cards should appear accidental, and origi-
nate in the proposal of my contemplated dupe himself.
To be brief upon a vile topic, none of the low finesse was
omitted, so customary upon similar occasions, that it is a
just matter for wonder how any are still found so besotted
as to fall its victim.

We had protracted our sitting far into the night, and I
had at length effected the manoeuvre of getting Glendin-
ning as my sole antagonist. The game, too, was my
favorite txarte' The rest of the company, interested in
the extent of our play, had abandoned their own cards,
and were standing around us as spectators, ^^q parvenu,
who had been induced by my artifices in the early part of
the evening, to drink deeply, now shuffled, dealt, or
played, with a wild nervousness of manner for which his
intoxication, I thought, might partially, but could not
altogether account. In a very short period he had become
my debtor to a large amount, when, having taken a long
draught of port, he did precisely what I had been coolly
anticipating — he proposed to double our already extrav-
agant stakes. With a well-feigned show of reluctance, and
not until after my repeated refusal had seduced him into
some angry words which gave a color of pique to my com-
pliance, did I finally comply. The result, of course, did
but prove how entirely the prey was in my toils : in less
than an hour he had quadrupled his debt. For some

66 WILLIAM WILSON.

time his countenance had been losing the florid tinge lent
it by the wine ; but now, to my astonishment, I perceived
that it had grown to a pallor truly fearful. I say, to my
astonishment. Glendinning had been represented to my
eager inquiries as immeasurably wealthy ; and the sums
which he had as yet lost, although in themselves vast,
could not, I supposed, very seriously annoy, much less so
violently affect him. That he was overcome by the wine
just swallowed, was the idea which most readily presented
itself ; and, rather with a view to the preservation of my
own character in the eyes of my associates, than from any
less interested motive, I was about to insist, peremptorily,
upon a discontinuance of the play, when some expressions
at my elbow from among the company, and an ejaculation
evincing utter despair on the part of Glendinning, gave
me to understand that I had effected his total ruin under
circumstances which, rendering him an object for the pity
of all, should have protected him from the ill offices even
of a fiend.

What now might have been my conduct it is difficult to
say. The pitiable condition of my dupe had thrown an
air of embarrassed gloom overall ; and, for some moments,
a profound silence was maintained, during which I could
not help feeling my cheeks tingle with the many burning
glances of scorn or reproach cast upon me by the less
abandoned of the party. I will even own that an intoler-
able weight of anxiety was for a brief instant lifted from
my bosom by the sudden and extraordinary interruption

WILLIAM WILSON. 67

which ensued. The wide, heavy folding doors of the
apartment were all at once thrown open, to their full ex-
tent, with a vigorous and rushing impetuosity that
extinguished, as if by magic, every candle in the room.'
Their light, in dying, enabled us just to perceive that a
stranger had entered, about my own height, and closely
muffled in a cloak. The darkness, however, was not
total ; and we could only feel that he was standing in our
midst. Before any one of us could recover from the ex-
treme astonishment into which this rudeness had thrown
all, we heard the voice of the intruder.

" Gentlemen," he said, in a low, distinct, and never-to-
be-forgotten whisper which thrilled to the very marrow "of
my bones, " Gentlemen, I make an apology for this be-
havior, because in thus behaving, I am fulfilling a duty.
You are, beyond doubt, uninformed of the true character
of the person who has to-night won at e"cartd a large sum
of money from Lord Glendinning. I will therefore put
you upon an expeditious and decisive plan of obtaining
this very necessary information. Please to examine, at
your leisure, the inner linings of the cuff of his left sleeve,
and the several little packages which may be found in the
somewhat capacious pockets of his embroidered morning
wrapper."

While he spoke, so profound was the stillness that one
might have heard a pin drop upon the floor. In ceasing,
he departed at once, and as abruptly as he had entered.
Can I — shall I describe my sensations? Must I say that

68 WILLIAM WILSON.

I felt all the horrors of the damned ? Most assuredly I
had little time for reflection. Many hands roughly seized
me upon the spot, and lights were immediately re-
procured. A search ensued. In the lining of my sleeve
were found all the court cards essential in eccirtd, and, in
the pockets of my wrapper, a number of packs, fac-similes
of those used at our sittings, with the single exception
that mine were of the species called, technically, arron-
dees ; the honors being slightly convex at the ends, the
lower cards slightly convex at the sides. In this disposi-
tion, the dupe who cuts, as customary, at the length of
the pack, will invariably find that he cuts his antagonist
an honor ; while the gambler, cutting at the breadth, will,
as certainly, cut nothing for his victim which may count
in the records of the game.

Any burst of indignation upon this discovery would
have affected me less than the silent contempt, or the
sarcastic composure, with which it was received.

" Mr. Wilson," said our host, stooping to remove from
beneath his feet an exceedingly luxurious cloak of rare
furs, " Mr. Wilson, this is your property." (The weather
was cold ; and, upon quitting my own room, I had thrown
a cloak over my dressing wrapper, putting it off upon
reaching the scene of play.) " I presume it is supereroga-
tory to seek here (eyeing the folds of the garment with a
bitter smile) for any farther evidence of your skill. Indeed,
we have had enough. You will see the necessity, I hope,
of quitting Oxford — at all events, of quitting instantly my
chambers."

WILLIAM WILSON. 69

Abased, humbled to the dust as I then was, it is prob-
able that I should have resented this galling language by
immediate personal violence, had not my whole attention
been at the moment arrested by a fact of the most start-
ling character. The cloak which I had worn was of a rare
description of fur ; how rare, how extravagantly costly, I
shall not venture to say. Its fashion, too, was of my own
fantastic invention ; for I was fastidious to an absurd de-
gree of coxcombry, in matters of this frivolous nature.
When, therefore, Mr. Preston reached me that which he
had picked up upon the floor, and near the folding-doors
of the apartment, it was with an astonishment nearly
bordering upon terror, that I perceived my own already
hanging on my arm, (where I had no doubt unwittingly
placed it,) and that the one presented me was but its ex-
act counterpart in every, in even the minutest possible
particular. The singular being who had so disastrously
exposed me, had been muffled, I remembered, in a cloak ;
and none had been worn at all by any of the members of
our party, with the exception of myself. Retaining some
presence of mind, I took the one offered me by Preston ;
placed it, unnoticed, over my own ; left the apartment
with a resolute scowl of defiance ; and, next morning ere
dawn of day, commenced a hurried journey from Ox-
ford to the continent, in a perfect agony of horror and of
shame.

I fled in vain. My evil destiny pursued me as if in ex-
ultation, and proved, indeed, that the exercise of its

/O WILLIAM WILSON.

mysterious dominion had as yet only begun. Scarcely
had I set foot in Paris, ere I had fresh evidence of the de-
testable interest taken by this Wilson in my concerns.
Years flew, while I experienced no relief. Villain ! — at
Rome, with how untimely, yet with how spectral an
officiousness, stepped he in between me and my ambition !
at Vienna, too — at Berlin — and at Moscow ! Where, in
truth, had I not bitter cause to curse him within my
heart ? From his inscrutable tyranny did I at length flee,
panic-stricken, as from a pestilence ; and to the very ends
of the earth I fled in vain.

And again, and again, in secret communion with my
own spirit, would I demand the questions " Who is he? —
whence came he ? — and what are his objects?" But no
answer was there found. And now I scrutinized, with a
minute scrutiny, the forms, and the methods, and the
leading traits of his impertinent supervision. But even
here there was very little upon which to base a conjecture.
It was noticeable, indeed, that, in no one of the multiplied
instances in which he had of late crossed my path, had he
so crossed it except to frustrate those schemes, or to dis-
turb those actions, which, if fully carried out, might have
resulted in bitter mischief. Poor justification this, in
truth, for an authority so imperiously assumed ! Poor
indemnity for natural rights of self-agency so pertinacious-
ly, so insultingly denied !

I had also been forced to notice that my tormentor, for
a very long period of time, (while scrupulously and with

WILLIAM WILSON. 7 1

miraculous dexterity maintaining his whim of an identity
of apparel with myself,) had so contrived it, in the execu-
tion of his varied interference with my will, that I saw not,
at any moment, the features of his face. Be Wilson what
he might, this, at least, was but the veriest of affectation,
or of folly. Could he, for an instant, have supposed that,
in my admonisher at Eton — in the destroyer of my honor
at Oxford, — in him who thwarted my ambition at Rome,
my revenge at Paris, my passionate love at Naples, or
what he falsely termed my avarice in Egypt, — that in this,
my arch-enemy and evil genius, I could fail to recognize
the William Wilson of my school-boy days, — the name-
sake, the companion, the rival, — the hated and dreaded
rival at Dr. Bransby's ? Impossible ! — But let me hasten
to the last eventful scene of the drama.

Thus far I had succumbed supinely to this imperious
domination. The sentiment of deep awe with which I
habitually regarded the elevated character, the majestic
wisdom, the apparent omnipresence and omnipotence of
Wilson, added to a feeling of even terror, with which
certain other traits in his nature and assumptions inspired
me, had operated, hitherto, to impress me with an idea of
my own utter weakness and helplessness, and to suggest
an implicit, although bitterly reluctant submission to his
arbitrary will. But, of late days, I had given myself up
entirely to wine ; and its maddening influence upon my
hereditary temper rendered me more and more impatient
of control. I began to murmur, — to hesitate, — to resist.

72 WILLIAM WILSON.

And was it only fancy which induced me to believe that,
with the increase of my own firmness, that of my tor-
mentor underwent a proportional diminution ? Be this as
it may, I now began to feel the inspiration of a burning
hope, and at length nurtured in my secret thoughts a
stern and desperate resolution that I would submit no
longer to be enslaved.

It was at Rome, during the Carnival of 18 — , that I
attended a masquerade in the palazzo of the Neapolitan
Duke Di Broglio. I had indulged more freely than usual
in the excesses of the wine-table ; and now the suffocating
atmosphere of the crowded rooms irritated me beyond
endurance. The difficulty, too, of forcing my way through
the mazes of the company contributed not a little to the
ruffling of my temper ; for I was anxiously seeking (let
me not say with what unworthy motive) the young, the
gay, the beautiful wife of the aged and doting Di Broglio.
With a too unscrupulous confidence she had previously
communicated to me the secret of the costume in which
she would be habited, and now, having caught a glimpse
of her person, I was hurrying to make my way into her
presence. At this moment I felt a light hand placed
upon my shoulder, and that ever-remembered, low, damna-
ble whisper within my ear.

In an absolute frenzy of wrath, I turned at once upon
him who had thus interrupted me, and seized him violently
by the collar. He was attired, as I had expected, in a
costume altogether similar to my own ; wearing a Spanish

WILLIAM WILSON. 73

cloak of blue velvet, begirt about the waist with a crimson
belt sustaining a rapier. A mask of black silk entirely
covered his face.

" Scoundrel ! M I said, in a voice husky with rage, while
every syllable I uttered seemed as new fuel to my fury ;
" scoundrel ! impostor ! accursed villain ! you shall not —
you shall not dog me unto death ! Follow me, or I stab
you where you stand ! " — and I broke my way from the
ball-room into a small ante-chamber adjoining, dragging
him unresistingly with me as I went.

Upon entering, I thrust him furiously from me. He
staggered against the wall, while I closed the door with
an oath, and commanded him to draw. He hesitated but
for an instant ; then, with a slight sigh, drew in silence,
and put himself upon his defence.

The contest was brief indeed. I was frantic with every
species of wild excitement, and felt within my single arm
the energy and power of a multitude. In a few seconds I
forced him by sheer strength against the wainscotting,
and thus, getting him at mercy, plunged my sword, with
brute ferocity, repeatedly through and through his bosom.

At that instant some person tried the latch of the door.
I hastened to prevent an intrusion, and then immediately
returned to my dying antagonist. But what human lan-
guage can adequately portray that astonishment, that
horror which possessed me at the spectacle then presented
to view ? The brief moment in which I averted my eyes
had been sufficient to produce, apparently, a material

74 WILLIAM WILSON.

change in the arrangements at the upper or farther end of
the room. A large mirror, — so at first it seemed to me in
my confusion — now stood where none had been percepti-
ble before ; and as I stepped up to it in extremity of
terror, mine own image, but with features all pale and
dabbled in blood, advanced to meet me with a feeble and
tottering gait.

Thus it appeared, I say, but was not. It was my an-
tagonist— it was Wilson, who then stood before me in the
agonies of his dissolution. His mask and cloak lay, where
he had thrown them, upon the floor. Not a thread in all
his raiment — not a line in all the marked and singular
lineaments of his face which was not, even in the most
absolute identity, mine own !

It was Wilson ; but he spoke no longer in a whisper,
and I could have fancied that I myself was speaking while
he said :

" You have conquered, and I yield. Yet henceforward
art thou also dead — dead to the World, to Heaven, and to
Hope ! In me didst thou exist — and, in my death, see by
this image, which is thine own, how utterly thou hast mur-
dered thyself."

•«*J^il££§©s*»

BERENICE.

Dicebant mihi sodales, si sepulchrum amicse visitarem, curas meas aliquar
tulum fore levatas. — Ebn Zaiat.

MISERY is manifold. The wretchedness of earth
is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as
the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that
arch — as distinct too, yet as intimately blended. Over-
reaching the wide horizon as the rainbow ! How is it
that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness ? —
from the covenant of peace, a simile of sorrow ? But, as
in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of
joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss
is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are, have
their origin in the ecstacies which might have been.

My baptismal name is Egaeus ; that of my family I will
not mention. Yet there are no towers in the land more
time-honored than my gloomy, gray, hereditary halls,
Our line has been called a race of visionaries ; and in many
striking particulars — in the character of the family man-
sion— in the frescos of the chief saloon — in the tapestries
of the dormitories — in the chiselling of some buttresses in

j6 BERENICE.

the armory — but more especially in the gallery of antique
paintings — in the fashion of the library chamber — and,
lastly, in the very peculiar nature of the library's con-
tents— there is more than sufficient evidence to warrant
the belief.

The recollection of my earliest years are connected with
that chamber, and with its volumes — of which latter I will
say no more. Here died my mother. Herein was I born.
But it is mere idleness to say that I had not lived before
— that the soul has no previous existence. You deny it ?
— let us not argue the matter. Convinced myself, I seek
not to convince. There is, however, a remembrance of
aerial forms — of spiritual and meaning eyes — of sounds,
musical yet sad ; a remembrance which will not be ex-
cluded ; a memory like a shadow — vague, variable, in-
definite, unsteady ; and like a shadow, too, in the impos-
sibility of my getting rid of it while the sunlight of my
reason shall exist.

In that chamber was I born. Thus awaking from the
long night of what seemed, but was not, nonentity, at
once into the very regions of fairy land — into a palace of
imagination — into the wild dominions of monastic thought
and erudition — it is not singular that I gazed around me
with a startled and ardent eye — that I loitered away
my boyhood in books, and dissipated my youth in revery ;
but it is singular, that as years rolled away, and the noon
of manhood found me still in the mansion of my fathers —
it is wonderful what a stagnation there fell upon the

BERENICE. 77

springs of my life — wonderful how total an inversion took
place in the character of my commonest thought. The
realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions
only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became,
in turn, not the material of my every-day existence,
but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in
itself.

Berenice and I were cousins, and we grew up together
in my paternal halls. Yet differently we grew — I, ill
of health, and buried in gloom — she, agile, graceful, and
overflowing with energy ; her's the ramble on the hill-side
— mine, the studies of the cloister ; I, living within my
own heart, and addicted, body and soul, to the most
intense and painful meditation — she, roaming carelessly
through life, with no thought of the shadows in her path,
or the silent flight of the raven-winged hours. Berenice !
— I call upon her name — Berenice ! — and from the gray
ruins of memory a thousand tumultuous recollections are
startled at the sound ! Ah, vividly is her image before
me now, as in the early days of her light-heartedness and
joy! Oh, gorgeous yet fantastic beauty! Oh, sylph
amid the shrubberies of Arnheim ! Oh, Naiad among its
fountains ! And then — then all is mystery and terror,
and a tale which should not be told. Disease — a fatal
disease, fell like the simoon upon her frame; and even,
while I gazed upon her, the spirit of change swept over
her, pervading her mind, her habits, and her character,

78 BERENICE.

and, in a manner the most subtle and terrible, disturbing
even the identity of her person ! Alas ! the destroyer
came and went ! — and the victim — where is she ? I knew
her not — or knew her no longer as Berenice !

Among the numerous train of maladies superinduced
by that fatal and primary one which effected a revolution
of so horrible a kind in the moral and physical being of
my cousin, may be mentioned as the most distressing and
obstinate in its nature, a species of epilepsy not unfre-
quently terminating in trance itself — trance very nearly
resembling positive dissolution, and from which her man-
ner of recovery was, in most instances, startingly abrupt.
In the meantime, my own disease — for I have been told
that I should call it by no other appellation — my own
disease, then, grew rapidly upon me, and assumed finally
a monomaniac character of a novel and extraordinary
form — hourly and momently gaining vigor — and at length
obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendency.
This monomania, if I must so term it, consisted in a
morbid irritability of those properties of the mind in meta-
physical science termed the attentive. It is more than prob-
able that I am not understood ; but I fear, indeed, that it
is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the
merely general reader, an adequate idea of that nervous
intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of
meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried
themselves, in the contemplation of even the most ordi-
nary objects of the universe.

BERENICE. 79

To muse for long unwearied hours, with my attention
riveted to some frivolous device on the margin or in the
typography of a book ; to become absorbed, for the better
part of a summer's day, in a quaint shadow falling aslant
upon the tapestry or upon the floor ; to lose myself, for
an entire night, in watching the steady flame of a lamp,
or the embers of a fire ; to dream away whole days over
the perfume of a flower ; to repeat, monotonously, some
common word, until the sound, by dint of frequent repe-
tition, ceased to convey any idea whatever to the mind ;
to lose all sense of motion or physical existence, by means
of absolute bodily quiescence long and obstinately per-
severed in : such were a few of the most common and least
pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of the mental
faculties, not, indeed, altogether unparalleled, but cer-
tainly bidding defiance to any thing like analysis or
explanation.

Yet let me not be misapprehended. The undue, ear-
nest, and morbid attention thus excited by objects in their
own nature frivolous, must not be confounded in character
with that ruminating propensity common to all mankind,
and more especially indulged in by persons of ardent
imagination. It was not even, as might be at first sup-
posed, an extreme condition, or exaggeration of such pro-
pensity, but primarily and essentially distinct and different.
In the one instance, the dreamer, or enthusiast, being
interested by an object usually not frivolous, imperceptibly
loses sight of this object in a wilderness of deduction? and

80 BERENICE.

suggestions issuing therefrom, until, at the conclusion of
a day-dream often replete with luxury ', he finds the incita-
mentum, or first cause of his musings, entirely vanished
and forgotten. In my case, the primary object was
invariably frivolous, although, assuming, through the medi-
um of my distempered vision, a refracted and unreal
importance. Few deductions, if any, were made; and
those few pertinaciously returning in upon the original
object as a centre. The meditations were never pleasura-
ble ; and, at the termination of the revery, the first cause,
so far from being out of sight, had attained that super-
naturally exaggerated interest which was the prevailing
feature of the disease. In a word, the powers of mind
more particularly exercised were, with me, as I have said
before, the attentive, and are, with the day-dreamer, the
speculative.

My books, at this epoch, if they did not actually serve
to irritate the disorder, partook, it will be perceived,
largely, in their imaginative and inconsequential nature,
of the characteristic -qualities of the disorder itself. I well
remember, among others, the treatise of the noble Italian,
Ccelius Secundus Curio, " De Arnplitudine Beati Regni
Dei" ; St. Austin's great work, "The City of God"; and
Tertullian's " De Car?ie Christi" in which the paradoxical
sentence, " Mortuus est Dei fi Hits ; credibile est quia inep-
tum est ; et sepultus resurrexit ; cerium est quia impossi-
ble est" occupied my undivided time, for many weeks of
laborious and fruitless investigation.

BERENICE, 8 1

Thus it will appear that, shaken from its balance only
by trivial things, my reason bore resemblance to that
ocean-crag spoken of by Ptolemy Hephestion, which
steadily resisting the attacks of human violence, and the
fiercer fury of the waters and the winds, trembled only to
the touch of the flower called Asphodel. And although,
to a careless thinker, it might appear a matter beyond
doubt, that the alteration produced by her unhappy
malady, in the moral condition of Berenice, would afford
me many objects for the exercise of that intense and
abnormal meditation whose nature I have been at some
trouble in explaining, yet such was not in any degree the
case. In the lucid intervals of my infirmity, her calamity,
indeed, gave me pain, and, taking deeply to heart that
total wreck of her fair and gentle life, I did not fail to
ponder, frequently and bitterly, upon the wonder-working
means by which so strange a revolution had been so sud-
denly brought to pass. But these reflections partook not
of the idiosyncrasy of my disease, and were such as
would have occurred, under similar circumstances, to the
ordinary mass of mankind. True to its own character,
my disorder revelled in the less important but more start-
ling changes wrought in the physical frame of Berenice —
in the singular and most appalling distortion of her per-
sonal identity.

During the brightest days of her unparalleled beauty,
most surely I had never loved her. In the strange
anomaly of my existence, feelings with me, had never been

82 BERENICE.

of the heart, and my passions always were of the mind.
Through the gray of the early morning — among the trel-
lised shadows of the forest at noonday — and in the silence
of my library at night — she had flitted by my eyes, and I
had seen her — not as the living and breathing Berenice,
but as the Berenice of a dream ; not as a being of the earth,
earthy, but as the abstraction of such a being ; not as a
thing to admire, but to analyze ; not as an object of love,
but as the theme of the most abstruse although desultory
speculation. And now — now I shuddered in her pres-
ence, and grew pale at her approach ; yet, bitterly lament-
ing her fallen and desolate condition, I called to mind that
she had loved me long, and, in an evil moment, I spoke
to her of marriage.

And at length the period of our nuptials was approaching,
when, upon an afternoon in the winter of the year — one
of those unseasonably warm, calm, and misty days which
are the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon,* — I sat (and sat,
as I thought, alone) in the inner apartment of the library.
But, uplifting my eyes, I saw that Berenice stood before
me.

Was it my own excited imagination — or the misty in-
fluence of the atmosphere — or the uncertain twilight of
the chamber — or the gray draperies which fell around her
figure — that caused in it so vacillating and indistinct an
outline ? I could not tell. She spoke no word ; and I —

* For as Jove, during the winter season, gives twice seven days of warmth,
men have called this clement and temperate time the nurse of the beautiful
H alcy on . — Simonides.

BERENICE. 83

not for worlds could I have uttered a syllable. An icy
chill ran through my frame ; a sense of insufferable anx-
iety oppressed me ; a consuming curiosity pervaded my
soul ; and, sinking back upon the chair, I remained for
some time breathless and motionless, with my eyes riv-
eted upon her person. Alas ! its emaciation was exces-
sive, and not one vestige of the former being lurked in any
single line of the contour. My burning glances at length
fell upon the face.

The forehead was high, and very pale, and singularly
placid ; and the once jetty hair fell partially over it, and
overshadowed the hollow temples with innumerable ring-
lets, now of a vivid yellow, and jarring discordantly, in
their fantastic character, with the reigning melancholy of
the countenance. The eyes were lifeless, and lustreless,
and seemingly pupilless, and I shrank involuntarily from
their glassy stare to the contemplation of the thin and
shrunken lips. They parted ; and in a smile of peculiar
meaning, the teeth of the changed Berenice disclosed them-
selves slowly to my view. Would to God that I had never
beheld them, or that, having done so, I had died !

*******

The shutting of a door disturbed me, and looking up, I
found that my cousin had departed from the chamber.
But from the disordered chamber of my brain, had not,
alas ! departed, and would not be driven away, the white
and ghastly spectrum of the teeth. Not a speck on their
surface — not a shade on their enamel — not an indenture

84 BERENICE.

in their edges — but what that brief period of her smile
had sufficed to brand in upon my memory. I saw them
now even more unequivocally than I beheld them then*
The teeth ! — the teeth ! — they were here, and there, and
everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me; long,
narrow, and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing
about them, as in the very moment of their first terrible
development. Then came the full fury of my monomania,
and I struggled in vain against its strange and irresistible
influence. In the multiplied objects of the external world
I had no thoughts but for the teeth. For these I longed
with a frenzied desire. All other matters and all different
interests became absorbed in their single contemplation.
They — they alone were present to the mental eye, and
they, in their sole individuality, became the essence of my
mental life. I held them in every light. I turned them
in every attitude. I surveyed their characteristics. I
dwelt upon their peculiarities. I pondered upon their con-
formation. I mused upon the alteration in their nature. I
shuddered as I assigned to them, in imagination, a sensi-
tive and sentient power, and, even when unassisted by the
lips, a capability of moral expression. Of Mademoiselle
Salle it has been well said : " Que tons ses pas etaicnt des
sentiments" and of Berenice I more seriously believed que
tous ses dents etaient des idees. Des idees ! — ah, here was
the idiotic thought that destroyed me ! Des idees ! — ah,
therefore it was that I coveted them so madly ! I felt
that their possession could alone ever restore me to peace,
in giving me back to reason.

BERENICE. 85

And the evening closed in upon me thus — and then the
darkness came, and tarried, and went — and the day again
dawned — and the mists of a second night were now gather-
ing around — and still I sat motionless in that solitary room
— and still I sat buried in meditation — and still the phan-
tasma of the teeth maintained its terrible ascendancy, as,
with the most vivid and hideous distinctness, it floated
about amid the changing lights and shadows of the cham-
ber. At length there broke in upon my dreams a cry as
of horror and dismay; and thereunto, after a pause, suc-
ceeded the sound of troubled voices, intermingled with
many low moanings of sorrow or of pain. I arose from
my seat, and throwing open one of the doors of the
library, saw standing out in the antechamber a servant
maiden, all in tears, who told me that Berenice was — no
more ! She had been seized with epilepsy in the early
morning, and now, at the closing in of the night, the grave
was ready for its tenant, and all the preparations for the
burial were completed.

•x- •& * -x- ■* * ■£

I found myself sitting in the library, and again sitting
there alone. It seemed to me that I had newly awakened
from a confused and exciting dream. I knew that it was
now midnight, and I was well aware, that since the set-
ting of the sun, Berenice had been interred. But of that
dreary period which intervened I had no positive, at least
no definite, comprehension. Yet its memory was replete
with horror — horror more horrible from being vague, and

86 BERENICE.

terror more terrible from ambiguity. It was a fearful
page in the record of my existence, written all over with
dim, and hideous, and unintelligible recollections. I
strived to decipher them, but in vain ; while ever and
anon, like the spirit of a departed sound, the shrill and
piercing shriek of a female voice seemed to be ringing in
my ears. I had done a deed — what was it ? I asked my-
self the question aloud, and the whispering echoes of the
chamber answered me — " What was it ? "

On the table beside me burned a lamp, and near it lay a
little box. It was of no remarkable character, and I had
seen it frequently before, for it was the property of the
family physician ; but how came it there, upon my table,
and why did I shudder in regarding it ? These things
were in no manner to be accounted for, and my eyes at
length dropped to the open pages of a book, and to a sen-
tence underscored therein. The words were the singular
but simple ones of the poet Ebn Zaiat : — " Dicebant milii
sodales si sepulchrum amic<z visitarem, curas meas aliquan-
tnhun fore levatas." Why, then, as I perused them, did
the hairs of my head erect themselves on end, and the
blood of my body become congealed within my veins ?

There came a light tap at the library door — and, pale
as the tenant of a tomb, a menial entered upon tiptoe.
His looks were wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a
voice tremulous, husky, and very low. What said he ? —
some broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry
disturbing the silence of the night — of the gathering to-

BERENICE. 8?

gether of the household — of a search in the direction of
the sound ; and then his tones grew thrillingly distinct as
he whispered me of a violated grave — of a disfigured body
enshrouded, yet still breathing — still palpitating — still
alive !

He pointed to my garments ; they were muddy and
clotted with gore. I spoke not, and he took me gently
by the hand : it was indented with the impress of human
nails. He directed my attention to some object against the
wall. I looked at it for some minutes : it was a spade.
With a shriek I bounded to the table, and grasped the
box that lay upon it. But I could not force it open ;
and, in my tremor, it slipped from my hands, and fell
heavily, and burst into pieces ; and from it, with a rattling
sound, there rolled out some instruments of dental sur-
gery, intermingled with thirty-two small, white, and ivory-
looking substances that were scattered to and fro about
the floor.

ELEONORA.

Sub conservatione formse specificse salva anima.

— Raymond Lully.

I AM come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor
of passion. Men have called me mad ; but the
question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not
the loftiest intelligence — whether much that is glorious —
whether all that is profound — does not spring from disease
of thought — from moods of mind exalted at the expense
of the general intellect. They who dream by day are
cognizant of many things which escape those who dream
only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses
of eternity, and thrill, in waking, to find that they have
been upon the verge of the great secret. In snatches,
they learn something of the wisdom which is of good, and
more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They
penetrate, however rudderless or compassless into the
vast ocean of the " light ineffable," and again, like the
adventures of the Nubian geographer, " agressi stmt mare
tencbrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi"

We will say, then, that I am mad. I grant, at least,

ELEONORA. 89

that there are two distinct conditions of my mental exist-
ence— the condition of a lucid reason, not to be disputed,
and belonging to the memory of events forming the first
epoch of my life — and a condition of shadow and doubt,
appertaining to the present, and to the recollection of
what constitutes the second great era of my being.
Therefore, what I shall tell of the earlier period, believe ;
and to what I may relate of the later time, give only
such credit as may seem due ; or doubt it altogether ;
or, if doubt it ye cannot, then play unto its riddle the
CEdipus.

She whom I loved in youth, and of whom I now pen
calmly and distinctly these remembrances, was the sole
daughter of the only sister of my mother long departed.
Elenora was the name of my cousin. We had always
dwelled together, beneath a tropical sun, in the Valley of
the Many-Colored Grass. No unguided footstep ever
came upon that vale ; for it lay far away up among a range
of giant hills that hung beetling around about it, shutting
out the sunlight from its sweetest recesses. No path was
trodden in its vicinity ; and, to reach our happy home,
there was need of putting back, with force, the foliage of
many thousands of forest trees, and of crushing to death
the glories of many millions of fragrant flowers. Thus it
was that we lived all alone, knowing nothing of the
world without the valley, — I, and my cousin, and her
mother.

From the dim regions beyond the mountains at the up-

90 ELE0N0RA.

per end of our encircled domain, there crept out a narrow
and deep river, brighter than all save the eyes of Eleo-
nora ; and, winding stealthily about in mazy courses, it
passed away, at length, through a shadowy gorge, among
hills still dimmer than those whence it had issued. We
called it the " River of Silence ; " for there seemed to be
a hushing influence in its flow. No murmur arose from
its bed, and so gently it wandered along, that the pearly
pebbles upon which we loved to gaze, far down within its
bosom, stirred not at all, but lay in a motionless con-
tent, each in its own old station, shining on gloriously
forever.

The margin of the river, and of the many dazzling rivu-
lets that glided through devious ways into its channel, as
well as the spaces that extended from the margins away
down into the depths of the streams until they reached
the bed of pebbles at the bottom, — these spots, not loss
than the whole surface of the valley, from the river to the
mountains that girdled it in, were carpeted all by a soft
green grass, thick, short, perfectly even, and vanilla-
perfumed, but so besprinkled throughout with the yellow
buttercup, the white daisy, the purple violet, and the
ruby-red asphodel, that its exceeding beauty spoke to
our hearts in loud tones, of the love and of the glory of
God.

And, here and there, in groves about this grass, like
wildernesses of dreams, sprang up fantastic trees, whose
tall slender stems stood not upright, but slanted gracefully

ELEONORA. 9 1

toward the light that peered at noon-day into the centre
of the valley. Their bark was speckled with the vivid
alternate splendor of ebony and silver, and was smoother
than all save the cheeks of Eleonora ; so that, but for the
brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their
summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the
Zephyrs, one might have fancied them giant serpents of
Syria doing homage to their Sovereign the Sun.

Hand in hand about this valley, for fifteen years,
roamed I with Eleonora before Love entered within our
hearts. It was one evening at the close of the third lus-
trum of her life, and of the fourth of my own, that we sat,
locked in each other's embrace, beneath the serpent-like
trees, and looked down within the waters of the River of
Silence at our images therein. We spoke no words dur-
ing the rest of that sweet day ; and our words even upon
the morrow were tremulous and few. We had drawn the
god Eros from that wave, and now we felt that he
had enkindled within us the fiery souls of our forefathers.
The passions which had for centuries distinguished our
race, came thronging with the fancies for which they had
been equally noted, and together breathed a delirious bliss
over the Valley of the Many-Colored Grass. A change
fell upon all things. Strange, brilliant flowers, star-
shaped, burst out upon the trees where no flowers had
been known before. The tints of the green carpet deep-
ened ; and when, one by one, the white daisies shrank
away, there sprang up in place of them, ten by ten of the

92 ELEONORA.

ruby-red asphodel. And life arose in our paths ; for the
tall flamingo, hitherto unseen, with all gay glowing birds,
flaunted his scarlet plumage before us. The golden and
silver fish haunted the river, out of the bosom of which
issued, little by little, a murmur that swelled, at length,
into a lulling melody more divine than that of the harp of
^Eolus — sweeter than all save the voice of Eleonora. And
now, too, a voluminous cloud, which we had long watched
in the regions of Hesper, floated out thence, all gorgeous
in crimson and gold, and settling in peace above us, sank,
day by day, lower and lower, until its edges rested upon
the tops of the mountains, turning all their dimness
into magnificence, and shutting us up, as if forever,
within a magic prison-house of grandeur and of glory.

The loveliness of Eleonora was that of the Seraphim ;
but she was a maiden artless and innocent as the brief
life she had led among the flowers. No guile disguised
the fervor of love which animated her heart, and she ex-
amined with me its inmost recesses as we walked together
in the Valley of the Many-Colored Grass, and discoursed
of the mighty changes which had lately taken place
therein.

At length, having spoken one day, in tears, of the last
sad change which must befall Humanity, she thencefor-
ward dwelt only upon this one sorrowful theme, inter-
weaving it into all our converse, as, in the songs of the
bard of Schiraz, the same images are found occurring,
again and again, in every impressive variation of phrase^

ELEONORA. 93

She had seen that the finger of Death was upon her
bosom — that, like the ephemeron, she had been made
perfect in loveliness only to die ; but the terrors of the
grave to her lay solely in a consideration which she re-
vealed to me, one evening at twilight, by the banks of the
River of Silence. She grieved to think that, having
entombed her in the Valley of the Many-Colored Grass, I
would quit forever its happy recesses, transferring the love
which now was so passionately her own to some maiden
of the outer and every-day world. And, then and there,
I threw myself hurriedly at the feet of Eleonora, and
offered up a vow, to herself and to Heaven, that I would
never bind myself in marriage to any daughter of Earth
— that I would in no manner prove recreant to her dear
memory, or to the memory of the devout affection with
which she had blessed me. And I called the Mighty Ruler
of the Universe to witness the pious solemnity of my
vow. And the curse which I invoked of Him and of her,
a saint in Helusion should I prove traitorous to that
promise, involved a penalty the exceeding great horror of
which will not permit me to make record of it here. And
the bright eyes of Eleonora grew brighter at my words ;
and she sighed as if a deadly burthen had been taken from
her breast ; and she trembled and very bitterly wept ; but
she made acceptance of the vow, (for what was she but a
child ?) and it made easy to her the bed of her death.
And she said to me, not many days afterward, tranquilly
dying, that, because of what I had done for the comfort

94 ELEONORA.

of her spirit she would watch over me in that spirit when
departed, and, if so it were permitted her return to me
visibly in the watches of the night ; but, if this thing
were, indeed, beyond the power of the souls in Paradise,
that she would, at least, give me frequent indications of
her presence ; sighing upon me in the evening winds, or
filling the air which I breathed with perfume from the
censers of the angels. And, with these words upon her
lips, she yielded up her innocent life, putting an end to
the first epoch of my own.

Thus far I have faithfully said. But as I pass the barrier
in Time's path, formed by the death of my beloved, and
proceed with the second era of my existence, I feel that a
shadow gathers over my brain, and I mistrust the perfect
sanity of the record. But let me on. — Years dragged
themselves along heavily, and still I dwelled within the
Valley of the Many-Colored Grass ; but a second change
had come upon all things. The star-shaped flowers
shrank into the stems of the trees, and appeared no more.
The tints of the green carpet faded ; and, one by one, the
ruby-red asphodels withered away ; and there sprang up,
in place of them, ten by ten, dark, eye-like violets, that
writhed uneasily and were ever encumbered with dew.
And Life departed from our paths ; for the tall flamingo
flaunted no longer his scarlet plumage before us, but flew
sadly from the vale into the hills, with all the gay glowing
birds that had arrived in his company. And the golden
and silver fish swam down through the gorge at the lower

ELEONORA. 95

end of our domain and bedecked the sweet river never
again. And the lulling melody that had been softer than
the wind-harp of yEolus, and more divine than all save
the voice of Eleonora, it died little by little away, in
murmurs growing lower and lower, until the stream re-
turned, at length, utterly, into the solemnity of its original
silence. And then, lastly, the voluminous cloud uprose,
and, abandoning the tops of the mountains to the dimness
of old, fell back into the regions of Hesper, and took
away all its manifold golden and gorgeous glories from
the Valley of the Many-Colored Grass.

Yet the promises of Eleonora were not forgotten ; for I
heard the sounds of the swinging of the censers of the
angels ; and streams of a holy perfume floated ever and
ever about the valley ; and at lone hours, when my heart
beat heavily, the winds that bathed my brow came unto
me laden with soft sighs ; and indistinct murmurs filled
often the night air ; and once — oh, but once only ! I was
awakened from a slumber, like the slumber of death, by
the pressing of spiritual lips upon my own.

But the void within my heart refused, even thus, to be
filled. I longed for the love which had before filled it to
overflowing. At length the valley pained me through its
memories of Eleonora, and I left it for ever for the vani-
ties and the turbulent triumphs of the world.

i found myself within a strange city, where all things
might have served to blot from recollection the sweet

c,6 ELEONORA.

dreams I had dreamed so long in the Valley of the Many-
Colored Grass. The pomps and pageantries of a stately
court, and the mad clangor of arms, and the radiant love-
liness of women, bewildered and intoxicated my brain.
But as yet my soul had proved true to its vows, and the
indications of the presence of Eleonora were still given
me in the silent hours of the night. Suddenly these man-
ifestations they ceased, and the world grew dark before
mine eyes, and I stood aghast at the burning thoughts
which possessed, at the terrible temptations which be-
set me ; for there came ' from some far, far distant and
unknown land, into the gay court of the king I served, a
maiden to whose beauty my whole recreant heart yielded
at once — at whose footstool I bowed down without a
struggle, in the most ardent, in the most abject worship
of love. What, indeed, was my passion for the young
girl of the valley in comparison with the fervor, and the
delirium, and the spirit-lifting ecstasy of adoration with
which I poured out my whole soul in tears at the feet of
the ethereal Ermengarde? Oh, bright was the seraph
Ermengarde ! and in that knowledge I had room for none
other. Oh, divine was the angel Ermengarde ! and as I
looked down into the depths of her memorial eyes, I
thought only of them — and of her,

I wedded, — nor dreaded the curse I had invoked ; and
its bitterness was not visited upon me. And once — but
once again in the silence of the night — there came through
my lattice the soft sighs which had forsaken me; and

ELEONORA. 97

they modelled themselves into familiar and sweet voice,
saying :

" Sleep in peace ! for the Spirit of Love reigneth and
ruleth, and, in taking to thy passionate heart her who is
Ermengarde, thou art absolved, for reasons which shall
be made known to thee in Heaven, of thy vows unto
Eleonora."

LI GEI A

And the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth the mysteries
of the will, with its vigor ? For God is but a great will pervading all things
by nature of its intentness. Man doth not yield himself to the angels, nor
unto death utterly, save only through the weakness of his feeble will. —
Joseph Glanvill.

I CANNOT, for my soul, remember how, when, or even
precisely where, I first became acquainted with the
lady Ligeia. Long years have since elapsed, and my
memory is feeble through much suffering. Or, perhaps, I
cannot now bring these points to mind, because, in truth,
the character of my beloved, her rare learning, her singu-
lar yet placid cast of beauty, and the thrilling and en-
thralling eloquence of her low musical language, made
their way into my heart by paces so steadily and stealthily
progressive, that they have been unnoticed and unknown.
Yet I believe that I met her first and most frequently in
some large, old, decaying city near the Rhine. Of
her family — I have surely heard her speak. That it is of
a remotely ancient date cannot be doubted. Ligeia !
Ligeia ! Buried in studies of a nature more than all else
adapted to deaden impressions of the outward world, it js

LIGEIA. 99

by that sweet word alone — by Ligeia — that I bring before
mine eyes in fancy the image of her who is no more. And
now, while I write, a recollection flashes upon me that I
have never knoivn the paternal name of her who was
my friend and my betrothed, and who became the partner
of my studies, and finally the wife of my bosom. Was it
a playful charge on the part of my Ligeia ? or was it
a test of my strength of affection, that I should institute
no inquiries upon this point ? or was it rather a caprice of
my own — a wildly romantic offering on the shrine of the
most passionate devotion ? I but indistinctly recall the
fact itself — what wonder that I have utterly forgotten the
circumstances which originated or attended it? And,
indeed, if ever that spirit which is entitled Romance —
if ever she, the wan and the misty-winged Ashtophet of
idolatrous Egypt, presided, as they tell, over marriages ill-
omened, then most surely she presided over mine.

There is one dear topic, however, on which my memory
fails me not. It is the person of Ligeia. In stature she
was tall, somewhat slender, and, in her latter days, even
emaciated. I would in vain attempt to portray the
majesty, the quiet ease of her demeanor, or the incom-
prehensible lightness and elasticity of her footfall. She
came and departed as a shadow. I was never made aware
of her entrance into my closed study, save by the dear
music of her low sweet voice, as she placed her marble
hand upon my shoulder. In beauty of face no maiden
ever equalled her. It was the radiance of an opium-

100 LI G EI A.

dream — an airy and spirit-lifting vision more wildly
divine than the phantasies which hovered about the
slumbering souls of the daughters of Delos. Yet her
features were not of that regular mould which we have
been falsely taught to worship in the classical labors of
the heathen. " There is no exquisite beauty/' says Bacon,
Lord Verulam, speaking truly of all the forms and genera
of beauty, " without some strangeness in the proportion."
Yet, although I saw that the features of Ligeia were not
of a classic regularity — although I perceived that her love-
liness was indeed " exquisite," and felt that there was
much of " strangeness " pervading it, yet I have tried
in vain to detect the irregularity and to trace home
my own perception of " the strange." I examined the
contour of the lofty and pale forehead — it was faultless —
how cold indeed that word when applied to a majesty so
divine ! — the skin rivalling the purest ivory, the command-
ing extent and repose, the gentle prominence of the
regions above the temples ; and then the raven-black, the
glossy, the luxuriant, and naturally-curling tresses, setting
forth the full force of the Homeric epithet, " hyacinthine ! "
I looked at the delicate outlines of the nose — and no-
where but in the graceful medallions of the Hebrews had
I beheld a similar perfection. There were the same luxu-
rious smoothness of surface, the same scarcely perceptible
tendency to the aquiline, the same harmoniously curved
nostrils speaking the free spirit. I regarded the sweet
mouth. Here was indeed the triumph of all things

LIGEIA. 101

heavenly — the magnificent turn of the short upper lip —
the soft, voluptuous slumber of the under — the dimples
which sported, and the color which spoke — the teeth glan-
cing back, with a brilliancy almost startling, every ray of
the holy light which fell upon them in her serene and
placid yet most exultingly radiant of all smiles. I scru-
tinized the formation of the chin — and, here too, I found
the gentleness of breadth, the softness and the majesty,
the fulness and the spirituality, of the Greek — the contour
which the god Apollo revealed but in a dream, to
Cleomenes, the son of the Athenian. And then I peered
into the large eyes of Ligeia.

For eyes we have no models in the remotely antique.
It might have been, too, that in these eyes of my beloved
lay the secret to which Lord Verulam alludes. They
were, I must believe, far larger than the ordinary eyes of
our own race. They were even fuller than the fullest of
the gazelle eyes of the tribe of the valley of Nourjahad.
Yet it was only at intervals — in moments of intense ex-
citement— that this peculiarity became more than slightly
noticeable in Ligeia. And at such moments was her
beauty — in my heated fancy thus it appeared perhaps —
the beauty of beings either above or apart from the earth
— the beauty of the fabulous Houri of the Turk. The
hue of the orbs was the most brilliant of black, and, far
over them, hung jetty lashes of great length. The brows,
slightly irregular in outline, had the same tint. The
" strangeness," however, which I found in the eyes was of

102 LI G EI A.

a nature distinct from the formation, or the color, or the
brilliancy of the features, and must, after all, be referred
to the expression. Ah, word of no meaning ! behind
whose vast latitude of mere sound we intrench our igno-
rance of so much of the spiritual. The expression of the
eyes of Ligeia ! How for long hours have I pondered
upon it ! How have I, through the whole of a midsum-
mer night, struggled to fathom it ! What was it — that
something more profound than the well of Democritus —
which lay far within the pupils of my beloved ? What
was it ? I was possessed with a passion to discover.
Those eyes ! those large, those shining, those divine orbs !
they became to me twin stars of Leda, and I to them de-
voutest of astrologers.

There is no point, among the many incomprehensible
anomalies of the science of mind, more thrillingly exciting
than the fact — never, I believe, noticed in the schools —
that in our endeavors to recall to memory something long
forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of
remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remem-
ber. And thus how frequently, in my intense scrutiny of
Ligeia's eyes, have I felt approaching the full knowledge
of their expression — felt it approaching — yet not quite be
mine — and so at length entirely depart ! And (strange,
oh, strangest mystery of all !) I found, in the commonest
objects of the universe, a circle of analogies to that ex-
pression. I mean to say that, subsequently to the period
when Ligeia's beauty passed into my spirit, there dwelling

LIGEIA. 103

as in a shrine, I derived, from many existences in the ma-
terial world, a sentiment such as I felt always around,
within me, by her large and luminous orbs. Yet not the
more could I define that sentiment, or analyze, or even
steadily view it. I recognized it, let me repeat, sometimes
in the survey of a rapidly-growing vine — in the contem-
plation of a moth, a butterfly, a chrysalis, a stream of
running water. I have felt it in the ocean — in the falling
of a meteor. I have felt it in the glances of unusually
aged people. And there are one or two stars in heaven
(one especially, a star of the sixth magnitude, double and
changeable, to be found near the large star in Lyra) in a
telescopic scrutiny of which I have been made aware of
the feeling. I have been filled with it by certain sounds
from stringed instruments, and not unfrequently by pas-
sages from books. Among innumerable other instances,
I well remember something in a volume of Joseph Glan-
vill, which (perhaps merely from its quaintness — who shall
say?) never failed to inspire me with the sentiment : "And
the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth
the mysteries of the will, with its vigor ? For God is but
a great will pervading all things by nature of its intent-
ness. Man doth not yield him to the angels, nor unto
death utterly, save only through the weakness of his
feeble will."

Length of years and subsequent reflection have enabled
me to trace, indeed, some remote connection between this
passage in the English moralist and a portion of the char-

104 LIGEIA,

acter of Ligeia. An intensity in thought, action, or speech
was possibly, in her, a result, or at least an index, of that
gigantic volition which, during our long intercourse, failed
to give other and more immediate evidence of its exist-
ence. Of all the women whom I have ever known, she,
the outwardly calm, the ever-placid Ligeia, was the most
violently a prey to the tumultuous vultures of stern pas-
sion. And of such passion I could form no estimate, save
by the miraculous expansion of those eyes which at once
so delighted and appalled me, — by the almost magical
melody, modulation, distinctness, and placidity of her
very low voice, — and by the fierce energy (rendered
doubly effective by contrast with her manner of utterance)
of the wild words which she habitually uttered.

I have spoken of the learning of Ligeia : it was immense
— such as I have never known in woman. In the classical
tongues was she deeply proficient, and as far as my own
acquaintance extended in regard to the modern dialects
of Europe, I have never known her at fault. Indeed upon
any theme of the most admired because simply the most
abstruse of the boasted erudition of the Academy, have I
ever found Ligeia at fault ? How singularly — how thrill-
ingly, this one point in the nature of my wife has forced
itself, at this late period only, upon my attention ! I said
her knowledge was such as I have never known in woman
— but where breathes the man who has traversed, and
successfully, all the wide areas of moral, physical, and
mathematical science ? I saw not then what I now clearly

LIGEIA. 105

perceive, that the acquisitions of Ligeia were gigantic, were
astounding ; yet I was sufficiently aware of her infinite
supremacy to resign myself, with a child-like confidence,
to her guidance through the chaotic world of metaphysical
investigation at which I was most busily occupied during
the earlier years of our marriage. With how vast a tri-
umph— with how vivid a delight — with how much of all
that is ethereal in hope did I feel, as she bent over me in
studies but little sought — but less known, — that delicious
vista by slow degrees expanding before me, down whose
long, gorgeous, and all untrodden path, I might at length
pass onward to the goal of a wisdom too divinely precious
not to be forbidden !

How poignant, then, must have been the grief with
which, after some years, I beheld my well-grounded
expectations take wings to themselves and fly away !
Without Ligeia I was but as a child groping benighted.
Her presence, her readings alone, rendered vividly lumi-
nous the many mysteries of the transcendentalism in which
we were immersed. Wanting the radiant lustre of her
eyes, letters, lambent and golden, grew duller than Satur-
nian lead. And now those eyes shone less and less fre-
quently upon the pages over which I pored. Ligeia grew
ill. The wild eyes blazed with a too — too glorious efful-
gence ; the pale fingers became of the transparent waxen
hue of the grave ; and the blue veins upon the lofty fore-
head swelled and sank impetuously with the tides of the
most gentle emotion. I saw that she must die — and I

106 LIGEIA.

struggled desperately in spirit with the grim Azrael. And
the struggles of the passionate wife were, to my aston-
ishment, even more energetic than my own. There had
been much in her stern nature to impress me with the
belief that, to her, death would have come without its
terrors ; but not so. Words are impotent to convey any
just idea of the fierceness of resistance with which she
wrestled with the Shadow. I groaned in anguish at the
pitiable spectacle. I would have soothed — I would have
reasoned ; but in the intensity of her wild desire for
life — for life — but for life — solace- and reason were alike
the uttermost of folly. Yet not until the last instance,
amid the most convulsive writhings of her fierce spirit,
was shaken the external placidity of her demeanor. Her
voice grew more gentle — grew more low — yet I would
not wish to dwell upon the wild meaning of the quietly
uttered words. My brain reeled as I hearkened, en-
tranced to a melody more than mortal — to assumptions
and aspirations which mortality had never before known.
That she loved me I should not have doubted ; and I
might have been easily aware that, in a bosom such as
hers, love would have reigned no ordinary passion. But
in death only was I fully impressed with the strength of
her affection. For long hours, detaining my hand, would
she pour out before me the overflowing of a heart whose
more than passionate devotion amounted to idolatry.
How had I deserved to be so blessed by such confessions?
— how had I deserved to be so cursed with the removal

LIGEIA. 107

of my beloved in the hour of my making them ? But
upon this subject I cannot bear to dilate. Let me say
only, that in Ligeia's more than womanly abandonment
to a love, alas! all unmerited, all unworthily bestowed, I
at length recognized the principle of her longing, with so
wildly earnest a desire, for the life which was now fleeing
so rapidly away. It is this wild longing — it is this eager
vehemence of desire for life — but for life — that I have no
power to portray — no utterance capable of expressing.

At high noon of the night in which she departed,
beckoning me, peremptorily, to her side, she bade me re-
peat certain verses composed by herself not many days
before. I obeyed her. They were these : —

Lo ! 't is a gala night

Within the lonesome latter years !
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see

A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully

The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,

Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly ;

Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things

That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their condor wings

Invisible Woe !

That motley drama ! — oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot !

108 LIGEIA.

With its Phantom chased for evermore,

By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in

To the self-same spot ;
And much of Madness, and more of Sin

And Horror, the soul of the plot !

But see, amid the mimic rout

A crawling shape intrude !
A blood-red thing that writhes from out

The scenic solitude !
It writhes ! — it writhes ! — with mortal pangs

The mimes become its food,
And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs

In human gore imbued.

Out — out are the lights — out all !

And over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,

Comes down with the rush of a storm —
And the angels, all pallid and wan,

Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, " Man,"

And its hero, the conqueror Worm.

" O God ! " half shrieked Ligeia, leaping to her feet and
extending her arms aloft with a spasmodic movement, as
I made an end of these lines — " O God ! O Divine
Father! — shall these things be undeviatingly so? — shall
this conqueror be not once conquered ? Are we not part
and parcel in Thee ? Who — who knoweth the mysteries
of the will with its vigor? Man doth not yield him to
the angels, nor unto death utterly, save only through the
weakness of his feeble will."

And now, as if exhausted with emotion, she suffered her
white arms to fall, and returned solemnly to her bed of

LIGEIA. 109

death. And as she breathed her last sighs, there came
mingled with them a low murmur from her lips. I bent
to them my ear, and distinguished, again, the concluding
words of the passage in Glanvill : " Man doth not yield
him to the angels, nor unto death utterly, save o?ily through
the weakness of his feeble will."

She died : and I, crushed into the very dust with sor-
row, could no longer endure the lonely desolation of my
dwelling in the dim and decaying city by the Rhine. I
had no lack of what the world calls wealth, Ligeia had
brought me far more, very far more, than ordinarily falls
to the lot of mortals. After a few months, therefore, of
weary and aimless wandering, I purchased and put in
some repair, an abbey, which I shall not name, in one of
the wildest and least frequented portions of fair England.
The gloomy and dreary grandeur of the building, the al-
most savage aspect of the domain, the many melancholy
and time-honored memories connected with both, had
much in unison with the feelings of utter abandonment
which had driven me into that remote and unsocial region
of the country. Yet although the external abbey, with
its verdant decay hanging about it, suffered but little al-
teration, I gave way, with a child-like perversity, and
perchance with a faint hope of alleviating my sorrows, to
a display of more than regal magnificence within. For
such follies, even in childhood, I had imbibed a taste, and
now they came back to me as if in the dotage of grief.
Alas, I feel how much even of incipient madness might

IIO LI G EI A.

have been discovered in the gorgeous and fantastic
draperies, in the solemn carvings of Egypt, in the wild
cornices and furniture, in the Bedlam patterns of the
carpets of tufted gold ! I had become a bounden slave in
the trammels of opium, and my labors and my orders had
taken a coloring from my dreams. But these absurdities
I must not pause to detail. Let me speak only of that
one chamber, ever accursed, whither, in a moment of
mental alienation, I led from the altar as my bride — as
the successor of the unforgotten Ligeia — the fair-haired
and blue-eyed Lady Rowena Trevanion, of Tremaine.

There is no individual portion of the architecture and
decoration of that bridal chamber which is not now visibly
before me. Where were the souls of the haughty family
of the bride, when, through thirst of gold, they permitted
to pass the threshold of an apartment so bedecked, a
maiden and a daughter so beloved ? I have said, that I
minutely remember the details of the chamber — yet I am
sadly forgetful on topics of deep moment ; and here there
was no system, no keeping, in the fantastic display, to
take hold upon the memory. The room lay in a high
turret of the castellated abbey, was pentagonal in shape,
and of capacious size. Occupying the whole southern
face of the pentagon was the sole window — an immense
sheet of unbroken glass from Venice — a single pane, and
tinted of a leaden hue, so that the rays of either the sun
or moon passing through it, fell with a ghastly lustre on
the objects within. Over the upper portion of this huge

LIGEIA. Ill

window, extended the trellis-work of an aged vine, which
clambered up the massy walls of the turret. The ceiling,
of gloomy-looking oak, was excessively lofty, vaulted, and
elaborately fretted with the wildest and most grotesque
specimens of a semi-Gothic, semi-Druidical device. From
out the most central recess of this melancholy vaulting,
depended, by a single chain of gold with long links, a huge
censer of the same metal, Saracenic in pattern, and with
many perforations so contrived that there writhed in and
out of them, as if endued with a serpent vitality, a contin-
ual succession of parti-colored fires.

Some few ottomans and golden candelabra, of Eastern
figure, were in various stations about ; and there was the
couch, too — the bridal couch — of an Indian model, and
low, and sculptured of solid ebony, with a pall-like canopy
above. In each of the angles of the chamber stood on
end a gigantic sarcophagus of black granite, from the
tombs of the kings over against Luxor, with their aged
lids full of immemorial sculpture. But in the draping of
the apartment lay, alas ! the chief phantasy of all. The
lofty walls, gigantic in height — even unproportionably so
— were hung from summit to foot, in vast folds, with a
heavy and massive-looking tapestry — tapestry of a ma-
terial which was found alike as a carpet on the floor, as a
covering for the ottomans and the ebony bed, as a
canopy for the bed and as the gorgeous volutes of
the curtains which partially shaded the window. The
material was the richest cloth of gold. It was spot-

112 LIGEIA.

ted all over, at irregular intervals, with arabseque
figures, about a foot in diameter, and wrought upon
the cloth in patterns of the most jetty black. But these
figures partook of the true character of the arabesque only
when regarded from a single point of view. By a con-
trivance now common, and indeed traceable to a very re-
mote period of antiquity, they were made changeable in
aspect. To one entering the room, they bore the appear-
ance of simple monstrosities ; but upon a farther advance,
this appearance gradually departed ; and, step by step, as
the visitor moved his station in the chamber, he saw him-
self surrounded by an endless succession of the ghastly
forms which belong to the superstition of the Norman, or
arise in the guilty slumbers of the monk. The phantas-
magoric effect was vastly heightened by the artificial in-
troduction of a strong continual current of wind behind
the draperies — giving a hideous and uneasy animation to
the whole.

In halls such as these — in a bridal chamber such as this
— I passed, with the Lady of Tremaine, the unhallowed
hours of the first month of our marriage — passed them
with but little disquietude. That my wife dreaded the
fierce moodiness of my temper — that she shunned me,
and loved me but little — I could not help perceiving ; but
it gave me rather pleasure than otherwise. I loathed her
with a hatred belonging more to demon than to man.
My memory flew back (oh, with what intensity of regret !)
to Ligeia, the beloved, the august, the beautiful, the en-

LIGEIA. 1 1 3

tombed. I revelled in recollections of her purity, of her
wisdom, of her lofty — her ethereal nature, of her passionate,
her idolatrous love. Now, then, did my spirit fully and
freely burn with more than all the fires of her own. In
the excitement of my opium dreams (for I was habitually
fettered in the shackles of the drug), I would call aloud
upon her name, during the silence of the night, or among
the sheltered recesses of the glens by day, as if, through
the wild eagerness, the solemn passion, the consuming
ardor of my longing for the departed, I could restore her
to the pathways she had abandoned — ah, could it be for
ever? — upon the earth.

About the commencement of the second month of the
marriage, the Lady Rowena was attacked with sudden
illness, from which her recovery was slow. The fever
which consumed her rendered her nights uneasy ; and in
her perturbed state of half-slumber, she spoke of sounds,
and of motions, in and about the chamber of the turret,
which I concluded had no origin save in the distemper of
her fancy, or perhaps in the phantasmagoric influences of
the chamber itself. She became at length convalescent
— finally, well. Yet but a brief period elapsed, ere a sec-
ond more violent disorder again threw her upon a bed of
suffering ; and from this attack her frame, at all times
feeble, never altogether recovered. Her illnesses were,
after this epoch, of alarming character, and of more alarm-
ing recurrence, defying alike the knowledge and the great
exertions of her physicians. With the increase of the

1 14 LIGEIA.

chronic disease, which had thus, apparently, taken too sure
hold upon her constitution to be eradicated by human
means, I could not fail to observe a similar increase in the
nervous irritation of her temperament, and in her ex-
citability by trivial causes of fear. She spoke again, and
now more frequently and pertinaciously, of the sounds —
of the slight sounds — and of the unusual motions among
the tapestries, to which she had formerly alluded.

One night, near the closing in of September, she pressed
this distressing subject with more than usual emphasis
upon my attention. She had just awakened from an un-
quiet slumber, and I had been watching, with feelings half
of anxiety, half of vague terror, the workings of her
emaciated countenance. I sat by the side of her ebony
bed, upon one of the ottomans of India. She partly arose,
and spoke, in an earnest low whisper, of sounds which she
then heard, but which I could not hear — of motions which
she then saw, but which I could not perceive. The wind
was rushing hurriedly behind the tapestries, and I wished
to show her (what, let me confess it, I could not all be-
lieve) that those almost inarticulate breathings, and those
very gentle variations of the figures upon the wall, were
but the natural effects of that customary rushing of the
wind. But a deadly pallor, overspreading her face, had
proved to me that my exertions to reassure her would be
fruitless. She appeared to be fainting, and no attendants
were within call. I remembered where was deposited a
decanter of light wine which had been ordered by her-

LIGEIA. IIS

physicians, and hastened across the chamber to procure it.
But, as I stepped beneath the light of the censer, two cir-
cumstances of a startling nature attracted my attention.
I had felt that some palpable although invisible object
had passed lightly by my person ; and I saw that there lay
upon the golden carpet, in the very middle of the rich
lustre thrown from the censer, a shadow — a faint, indefinite
shadow of angelic aspect — such as might be fancied for the
shadow of a shade. But I was wild with the excitement
of an immoderate dose of opium, and heeded these things
but little, nor spoke of them to Rowena. Having found
the wine, I recrossed the chamber, and poured out a gob-
letful, which I held to the lips of the fainting lady. She
had now partially recovered, however, and took the vessel
herself, while I sank upon an ottoman near me, with my
eyes fastened upon her person. It was then that I be-
came distinctly aware of a gentle foot-fall upon the carpet,
and near the couch ; and in a second thereafter, as Rowena
was in the act of raising the wine to her lips, I saw, or
may have dreamed that I saw, fall within the goblet, as if
from some invisible spring in the atmosphere of the room,
three or four large drops of a brilliant and ruby colored
fluid. If this I saw — not so Rowena. She swallowed
the wine unhesitatingly, and I forebore to speak to her
of a circumstance which must, after all, I considered, have
been but the suggestion of a vivid imagination, rendered
morbidly active by the terror of the lady, by the opium,
and by the hour.

Il6 LIGEIA.

Yet I cannot conceal it from my own perception that,
immediately subsequent to the fall of the ruby-drops, a
rapid change for the worse took place in the disorder of
my wife ; so that, on the third subsequent night, the
hands of her menials prepared her for the tomb, and on
the fourth, I sat alone, with her shrouded body, in that fan-
tastic chamber which had received her as my bride. Wild
visions, opium-engendered, flitted, shadow-like, before me.
I gazed with unquiet eye upon the sarcophagi in the angles
of the room, upon the varying figures of the drapery, and
upon the writhing of the parti-colored fires in the censer
overhead. My eyes then fell, as I called to mind the
circumstances of a former night, to the spot beneath the
glare of the censer where I had seen the faint traces of
the shadow. It was there, however, no longer; and
breathing with greater freedom, I turned my glances to
the pallid and rigid figure upon the bed. Then rushed
upon me a thousand memories of Ligeia — and then came
back upon my heart, with the turbulent violence of a
flood, the whole of that unutterable woe with which I had
regarded her thus enshrouded. The night waned ; and
still, with a bosom full of bitter thoughts of the one only
and supremely beloved, I remained gazing upon the body
of Rowena.

It might have been midnight, or perhaps earlier, or later,
for I had taken no note of time, when a sob, low, gentle,
but very distinct, startled me from my revery. I felt that
it came from the bed of ebony — the bed of death. I

LI G EI A. WJ

listened in an agony of superstitious terror — but there
was no repetition of the sound. I strained my vision to
detect any motion in the corpse — but there was not the
slightest perceptible. Yet I could not have been deceived.
I had heard the noise, however faint, and my soul was
awakened within me. I resolutely and perseveringly kept
my attention riveted upon the body. Many minutes
elapsed before any circumstance occurred tending to
throw light upon the mystery. At length it became evi-
dent that a slight, a very feeble, and barely noticeable
tinge of color had flushed up within the cheeks, and along
the sunken small veins of the eyelids. Through a species
of unutterable horror and awe, for which the language of
mortality has no sufficiently energetic expression, I felt
my heart cease to beat, my limbs grow rigid where I sat.
Yet a sense of duty finally operated to restore my self-
possession. I could no longer doubt that we had been
precipitate in our preparations — that Rowena still lived.
It was necessary that some immediate exertion be made ;
yet the turret was altogether apart from the portion of
the abbey tenanted by the servants — there were none
within call — I had no means of summoning them to my
aid without leaving the room for many minutes — and this
I could not venture to do. I therefore struggled alone in
my endeavors to call back the spirit still hovering. In a
short period it was certain, however, that a relapse had
taken place ; the color disappeared from both eyelid and
cheek, leaving a wanness even more than that of marble ;

Il8 LIGEIA.

the lips became doubly shrivelled and pinched up in the
ghastly expression of death ; a repulsive clamminess and
coldness overspread rapidly the surface of the body ; and
all the usual rigorous stiffness immediately supervened. I
fell back with a shudder upon the couch from which I had
been so startlingly aroused, and again gave myself up to
passionate waking visions of Ligeia.

An hour thus elapsed, when (could it be possible ?) I
was a second time aware of some vague sound issuing
from the region of the bed. I listened — in extremity of
horror. The sound came again — it was a sigh. Rushing
to the corpse, I saw — distinctly saw — a tremor upon the
lips. In a minute afterward they relaxed, disclosing a
bright line of the pearly teeth. Amazement now strug-
gled in my bosom with the profound awe which had
hitherto reigned there alone. I felt that my vision grew
dim, that my reason wandered ; and it was only by a vio-
lent effort that I at length succeeded in nerving myself
to the task which duty thus once more had pointed out.
There was now a partial glow upon the forehead and upon
the cheek and throat ; a perceptible warmth pervaded the
whole frame ; there was even a slight pulsation at the
heart. The lady lived ; and with redoubled ardor I be-
took myself to the task of restoration. I chafed and
bathed the temples and the hands, and used every exer-
tion which experience, and no little medical reading, could
suggest. But in vain. Suddenly, the color fled, the pul-
sation ceased, the lips resumed the expression of the

LIGEIA. 119

dead, and, in an instant afterward, the whole body took
upon itself the icy chilliness, the livid hue, the intense
rigidity, the sunken outline, and all the loathsome pecu-
liarities of that which has been, for many days, a tenant
of the tomb.

And again I sunk into visions of Ligeia — and again,
(what marvel that I shudder while I write ?) again there
reached my ears a low sob from the region of the ebony
bed. But why shall I minutely detail the unspeakable
horrors of that night ? Why shall I pause to relate how,
time after time, until near the period of the gray dawn,
this hideous drama of revivification was repeated ; how
each terrific relapse was only into a sterner and apparently
more irredeemable death ; how each agony wore the
aspect of a struggle with some invisible foe ; and how
each struggle was succeeded by I know not what of wild
change in the personal appearance of the corpse? Let
me hurry to a conclusion.

The greater part of the fearful night had worn away,
and she who had been dead once again stirred — and now
more vigorously than hitherto, although arousing from a
dissolution more appalling in its utter hopelessness than
any. I had long ceased to struggle or to move, and
remained sitting rigidly upon the ottoman, a helpless
prey to a whirl of violent emotions, of which extreme
awe was perhaps the least terrible, the least consuming.
The corpse, I repeat, stirred, and now more vigorously
than before. The hues of life flushed up with unwonted

120 LIGEIA.

energy into the countenance — the limbs relaxed — and,
save that the eyelids were yet pressed heavily together,
and that the bandages and draperies of the grave still im-
parted their charnel character to the figure, I might have
dreamed that Rowena had indeed shaken off, utterly, the
fetters of Death. But if this idea was not, even then,
altogether adopted, I could at least doubt no longer,
when, arising from the bed, tottering, with feeble steps,
with closed eyes, and with the manner of one bewildered
in a dream, the thing that was enshrouded advanced
boldly and palpably into the middle of the apartment.

I trembled not — I stirred not — for a crowd of unut-
terable fancies connected with the air, the stature, the de-
meanor, of the figure, rushing hurriedly through my brain,
had paralyzed — had chilled me into stone. I stirred not
— but gazed upon the apparition. There was a mad dis-
order in my thoughts — a tumult unappeasable. Could
it, indeed, be the living Rowena who confronted me?
Could it, indeed, be Rowena at all — the fair-haired, the
blue-eyed Lady Rowena Trevanion of Tremaine ? Why,
why should I doubt it ? The bandage lay heavily about
the mouth — but then might it not be the mouth of the
breathing Lady of Tremaine? And the cheeks — there
were the roses as in her noon of life — yes, these might
indeed be the fair cheeks of the living Lady of Tremaine.
And the chin, with its dimples, as in health, might it not
be hers? — but had she then groivn taller since her malady?
What inexpressible madness seized me with that thought?

LIGEIA. 121

One bound, and I had reached her feet ! Shrinking from
my touch, she let fall from her head, unloosened, the
ghastly cerements which had confined it, and there
streamed forth into the rushing atmosphere of the cham-
ber huge masses of long and dishevelled hair ; it was
blacker than the raven wings of midnight ! And now
slowly opened the eyes of the figure which stood before
me. " Here then, at least," I shrieked aloud, "can I
never — can I never be mistaken— these are the full, and
the black, and the wild eyes — of my lost love — of the
Lady — of the Lady Ligeia."

M O R E L L A.

Avro naff avro jxeB f avrov, jxovo eideZ aiei ov.

Itself, by itself solely, ONE everlastingly, and single.

— Plato — Sympos,

WITH a feeling of deep yet most singular affection
I regarded my friend Morella. Thrown by acci-
dent into her society many years ago, my soul, from our
first meeting, burned with fires it had never before known ;
but the fires were not of Eros, and bitter and tormenting
to my spirit was the gradual conviction that I could in no
manner define their unusual meaning, or regulate their
vague intensity. Yet we met ; and fate bound us to-
gether at the altar ; and I never spoke of passion, nor
thought of love. She, however, shunned society, and,
attaching herself to me alone, rendered me happy. It is a
happiness to wonder ; — it is a happiness to dream.

Morella's erudition was profound. As I hope to live,
her talents were of no common order — her powers of mind
were gigantic. I felt this, and, in many matters, became
her pupil. I soon, however, found that, perhaps on ac-
count of her Presburg education, she placed before me a

122

MORELLA. 123

number of those mystical writings which are usually con^
sidered the mere dross of the early German literature.
These, for what reason I could not imagine, were her
favorite and constant study — and that, in process of
time they became my own, should be attributed to the
simple but effectual influence of habit and example.

In all this, if I err not, my reason had little to do. My
convictions, or I forget myself, were in no manner acted
upon by the ideal, nor was any tincture of the mysticism
which I read, to be discovered, unless I am greatly mis-
taken, either in my deeds or in my thoughts. Persuaded
of this, I abandoned myself implicitly to the guidance of
my wife, and entered with an unflinching heart into the
intricacies of her studies. And then — then, when, poring
over forbidden pages, I felt a forbidden spirit enkindling
within me — would Morella place her cold hand upon my
own, and rake up from the ashes of a dead philosophy
some low, singular words, whose strange meaning burned
themselves in upon my memory. And then, hour after
hour, would I linger by her side, and dwell upon the
music of her voice — until, at length, its melody was
tainted with terror, — and there fell a shadow upon my
soul — and I grew pale, and shuddered inwardly at those
too unearthly tones. And thus, joy suddenly faded into
horror, and the most beautiful became the most hideous,
as Hinnon became Ge-Henna.

It is unnecessary to state the exact character of those
disquisitions which, growing out of the volumes I have

124 MORELLA.

mentioned, formed, for so long a time, almost the sole
conversation of Morella and myself. By the learned in
what might be termed theological morality they will be
readily conceived, and by the unlearned they would, at
all events, be little understood. The wild Pantheism of
Fichte ; the modified TJaXiyyaveaia of Pythagoreans ;
and, above all, the doctrines of Identity as urged by Schel-
ling, were generally the points of discussion presenting
the most of beauty to the imaginative Morella. That iden-
tity which is termed personal, Mr. Locke, I think, truly
defines to consist in the saneness of a rational being. And
since by person we understand an intelligent essence hav-
ing reason, and since there is a consciousness which always
accompanies thinking, it is this which makes us all to be
that which we call ourselves — thereby distinguishing us
from other beings that think, and giving us our personal
identity. But the principium individuationis — the notion
of that identity which at death is or is not lost for ever — was
to me, at all times, a consideration of intense interest ;
not more from the perplexing and exciting nature of its
consequences, than from the marked and agitated manner
in which Morella mentioned them.

But, indeed, the time had now arrived when the mys-
tery of my wife's manner oppressed me as a spell. I
could no longer bear the touch of her wan fingers, nor the
low tone of her musical language, nor the lustre of her
melancholy eyes. And she knew all this, but did not up-
braid ; she seemed conscious of my weakness or my folly,

MORELLA. 125

and, smiling, called it Fate. She seemed, also, conscious
of a cause, to me unknown, for the gradual alienation of
my regard ; but she gave me no hint or token of its nature.
Yet was she woman, and pined away daily. In time, the
crimson spot settled steadily upon the cheek, and the
blue veins upon the pale forehead became prominent ;
and, one instant, my nature melted into pity, but, in the
next, I met the glance of her meaning eyes, and then my
soul sickened and became giddy with the giddiness of
one who gazes downward into some dreary and un-
fathomable abyss.

Shall I then say that I longed with an earnest and con-
suming desire for the moment of Morella's decease? I
did ; but the fragile spirit clung to its tenement of clay
for many days — for many weeks and irksome months — until
my tortured nerves obtained the mastery over my mind,
and I grew furious through delay, and, with the heart of a
fiend, cursed the days, and the hours, and the bitter
moments, which seemed to lengthen and lengthen as
her gentle life declined — like shadows in the dying of the
day.

But one autumnal evening, when the winds lay still in
heaven, Morella called me to her bedside. There was a
dim mist over all the earth, and a warm glow upon the
waters, and, amid the rich October leaves of the forest,
a rainbow from the firmament had surely fallen.

" It is a day of days," she said, as I approached ; " a
day of all days either to live or die. It is a fair day for

126 MORELLA.

the sons of earth and life — ah, more fair for the daughters
of heaven and death ! "

I kissed her forehead, and she continued :

" I am dying, yet shall I live."

" Morella ! "

" The days have never been when thou couldst love me
— but her whom in life thou didst abhor, in death thou
shalt adore."

" Morella ! "

" I repeat that I am dying. But within me is a pledge
of that affection — ah, how little ! — which thou didst feel
for me, Morella. And when my spirit departs shall the
child live — thy child and mine, Morella's. But thy days
shall be days of sorrow — that sorrow which is the most
lasting of impressions, as the cypress is the most enduring
of trees. For the hours of thy happiness are over ; and
joy is not gathered twice in a life, as the roses of Paestum
twice in a year. Thou shalt no longer, then, play the
Teian with time, but, being ignorant of the myrtle and
the vine, thou shalt bear about with thee thy shroud on
the earth, as do the Moslemin at Mecca."

" Morella ! " I cried, " Morella ! how knowest thou
this ? " — but she turned away her face upon the pillow,
and, a slight tremor coming over her limbs, she thus died,
and I heard her voice no more.

Yet, as she had foretold, her child — to which in dying
she had given birth, which breathed not until the mother
breathed no more — her child, a daugher, lived. And she

M OR ELLA. I27

grew strangely in stature and intellect, and was the
perfect resemblance of her who had departed, and I loved
her with a love more fervent than I had believed it pos-
sible to feel for any denizen of earth.

But, erelong, the heaven of this pure affection became
darkened, and gloom, and horror, and grief, swept over it
in clouds. I said the child grew strangely in stature and
intelligence. Strange, indeed, was her rapid increase in
bodily size — but terrible, oh ! terrible were the tumultuous
thoughts which crowded upon me while watching the de-
velopment of her mental being ! Could it be otherwise,
when I daily discovered in the conceptions of the child
the adult powers and faculties of the woman ? — when the
lessons of experience fell from the lips of infancy ? and
when the wisdom or the passions of maturity I found
hourly gleaming from its full and speculative eye? When,
I say, all this became evident to my appalled senses —
when I could no longer hide it from my soul, nor throw
it off from those perceptions which trembled to receive it
— is it to be wondered at that suspicions, of a nature fear-
ful and exciting, crept in upon my spirit, or that my
thoughts fell back aghast upon the wild tales and thrilling
theories of the entombed Morella? I snatched from the
scrutiny of the world a being whom destiny compelled
me to adore, and in the rigorous seclusion of my home,
watched with an agonizing anxiety over all which con-
cerned the beloved.

And, as years rolled away, and I gazed, day after day,

128 MORELLA.

upon her holy, and mild, and eloquent face, and poured
over her maturing form, day after day did I discover new-
points of resemblance in the child to her mother, the mel-
ancholy and the dead. And, hourly, grew darker these
shadows of similitude, and more full, and more definite,
and more perplexing, and more hideously terrible in their
aspect. For that her smile was like her mother's I could
bear ; but then I shuddered at its too perfect identity —
that her eyes were like Morella's I could endure ; but then
they too often looked down into the depths of my soul
with Morella's own intense and bewildering meaning.
And in the contour of the high forehead, and in the ring-
lets of the silken hair, and in the wTan fingers which buried
themselves therein, and in the sad musical tones of her
speech, and above all — oh ! above all — in the phrases and
expressions of the dead on the lips of the loved and the
living, I found food for consuming thought and horror —
for a worm that would not die.

Thus passed away two lustra of her life, and, as yet, my
daughter remained nameless upon the earth. " My
child," and " my love," were the designations usually
prompted by a father's affection, and the rigid seclusion
of her days precluded all other intercourse. Morella's
name died with her at her death. Of the mother I had
never spoken to the daughter ; — it was impossible to
speak. Indeed, during the brief period of her existence,
the latter had received no impressions from the outer
world, save such as might have been afforded by the nar-

MORELLA. 129

row limits of her privacy. But at length the ceremony of
baptism presented to my mind, in its unnerved and agi-
tated condition, a present deliverance from the terrors of
my destiny. And at the baptismal fount I hesitated for
a name. And many titles of the wise and beautiful, of
old and modern times, of my own and foreign lands, came
thronging to my lips, with many, many fair titles of the
gentle, and the happy, and the good. What prompted
me, then, to disturb the memory of the buried dead ?
What demon urged me to breathe that sound, which, in
its very recollection, was wont to make ebb the purple
blood in torrents from the temples to the heart ? What
fiend spoke from the recesses of my soul, when, amid
those dim aisles, and in the silence of the night, I whis-
pered within the ears of the holy man the syllables — Mor-
ella ? What more than fiend convulsed the features of my
child, and overspread them with hues of death, as starting
at that scarcely audible sound, she turned her glassy eyes
from the earth to heaven, and, falling prostrate on the black
slabs of our ancestral vault, responded — " I am here ! "

Distinct, coldly, calmly distinct, fell those few simple
sounds within my ear, and thence like molten lead, rolled
hissingly into my brain. Years — years may pass away,
but the memory of that epoch — never ! Nor was I indeed
ignorant of the flowers and the vine — but the hemlock
and the cypress overshadowed me night and day. And I
kept no reckoning of time or place, and the stars of my
fate faded from heaven, and therefore the earth grew dark,

130

MORELLA.

and its figures passed by me, like flitting shadows, and
among them all I beheld only — Morella. The winds of
the firmament breathed but one sound within my ears,
and the ripples upon the sea murmured evermore — Mor-
ella. But she died ; and with my own hands I bore her to
the tomb ; and I laughed with a long and bitter laugh as
I found no traces of the first, in the charnel where I laid
the second, Morella.

METZENGERSTEIN.

Pestis eram vivus — moriens tua mors ero.

— Martin Luther.

HORROR and fatality have been stalking abroad in
all ages. Why then give a date to the story I
have to tell ? Let it suffice to say, that at the period of
which I speak, there existed, in the interior of Hungary,
a settled although hidden belief in the doctrines of the
Metempsychosis. Of the doctrines themselves — that is,
of their falsity, or of their probability — I say nothing. I
assert, however, that much of our incredulity (as La
Bruyere says of all our unhappiness) " vient de ne pouvoir
etre seuls."*

But there were some points in the Hungarian supersti-
tion which were fast verging to absurdity. They — the
Hungarians — differed very essentially from their Eastern
authorities. For example. " The soul," said the former

* Mercier, in L an deux mille quatre cents quarante," seriously maintains
the doctrines of the Metempsychosis, and J. D'Israeli says that " no system
is so simple and so little repugnant to the understanding." Colonel Ethan
Allen, the " Green Mountain Boy," is also said to have been a serious me-
tempsychosist.

I3i

1 3 2 ME TZENGERSTEIN.

— I give the words of an acute and intelligent Parisian —
" ne demure qii un seul fois dans un corps sensible ; au reste
— un chevaly un chien, u?i homme meme, ri est que la ressem-
blance peu tangible de ces animaux."

The families of Berlifitzing and Metzengerstein had
been at variance for centuries. Never before were two
houses so illustrious, mutually embittered by hostility so
deadly. The origin of this enmity seems to be found in
the words of an ancient prophecy — " A lofty name shall
have a fearful fall when, as the rider over his horse, the
mortality of Metzengerstein shall triumph over the im-
mortality of Berlifitzing."

To be sure the words themselves had little or no mean-
ing. But more trivial causes have given rise — and that no
long while ago — to consequences equally eventful. Be-
sides, the estates, which were contiguous, had long exer-
cised a rival influence in the affairs of a busy government.
Moreover, near neighbors are seldom friends ; and the in-
habitants of the Castle Berlifitzing might look, from their
lofty buttresses, into the very windows of the Palace
Metzengerstein. Least of all had the more than feudal
magnificence, thus discovered, a tendency to allay the irri-
table feelings of the less ancient and less wealthy Ber-
lifitzings. What wonder, then, that the words, however
silly, of that prediction, should have succeeded in setting
and keeping at variance two families already predisposed
to quarrel by every instigation of hereditary jealousy ?
The prophecy seemed to imply — if it implied anything —

ME TZENGERSTEIN. ' 1 3 3

a final triumph on the part of the already more powerful
house ; and was of course remembered with the more bit-
ter animosity by the weaker and less influential.

Wilhelm, Count Berlifitzing, although loftily descended,
was, at the epoch of this narrative, an infirm and doting
old man, remarkable for nothing but an inordinate and in-
veterate personal antipathy to the family of his rival, and
so passionate a love of horses, and of hunting, that neither
bodily infirmity, great age, nor mental incapacity, pre-
vented his daily participation in the dangers of the chase.

Frederick, Baron Metzengerstein, was, on the other

hand, not yet of age. His father, the Minister G ,

died young. His mother, the Lady Mary, followed him
quickly. Frederick was, at that time, in his eighteenth
year. In a city, eighteen years are no long period ; but
in a wilderness — in so magnificent a wilderness as that
old principality, the pendulum vibrates with a deeper
meaning.

From some peculiar circumstances attending the ad-
ministration of his father, the young Baron, at the decease
of the former, entered immediately upon his vast posses-
sions. Such estates were seldom held before by a noble-
man of Hungary. His castles were without number.
The chief in point of splendor and extent was the " Palace
Metzengerstein." The boundary line of his dominions
was never clearly defined ; but his principal park embraced
a circuit of fifty miles.

Upon the succession of a proprietor so young, with a

134 ' METZENGERSTEIN.

character so well known, to a fortune so unparalleled,
little speculation was afloat in regard to his probable
course of conduct. And, indeed, for the space of three
days, the behavior of the heir out-Heroded Herod, and
fairly surpassed the expectations of his most enthusiastic
admirers. Shameful debaucheries — flagrant treacheries —
unheard-of atrocities — gave his trembling vassals quickly
to understand that no servile submission on their part —
no punctilios of conscience on his own — were thencefor-
ward to prove any security against the remorseless fangs
of a petty Caligula. On the night of the fourth day, the
stables of the Castle Berlifitzing were discovered to be on
fire ; and the unanimous opinion of the neighborhood
added the crime of the incendiary to the already hideous
list of the Baron's misdemeanors and enormities.

But during the tumult occasioned by this occurrence,
the young nobleman himself sat apparently buried in
meditation, in a vast and desolate upper apartment of the
family palace of Metzengerstein. The rich although faded
tapestry hangings which swung gloomily upon the walls,
represented the shadowy and majestic forms of a thousand
illustrious ancestors. Here, rich-ermined priests, and pon-
tifical dignitaries, familiarly seated with the autocrat and
the sovereign, put a veto on the wishes of a temporal
king, or restrained with the fiat of papal supremacy the
rebellious sceptre of the Arch-enemy. There, the dark,
tall statures of the Princes Metzengerstein — their muscu-
lar war-coursers plunging over the carcasses of fallen foes

ME TZENGERSTEIN. 1 3 5

— startled the steadiest nerves with their vigorous expres-
sion ; and here, again, the voluptuous and swan-like figures
of the dames of days gone by, floated away in the mazes
of an unreal dance to the strains of imaginary melody.

But as the Baron listened, or affected to listen, to the
gradually increasing uproar in the stables of Berlifltzing —
or perhaps pondered upon some more novel, some more
decided act of audacity — his eyes were turned unwittingly
to the figure of an enormous, and unnaturally colored
horse, represented in the tapestry as belonging to a Sara-
cen ancestor of the family of his rival. The horse itself,
in the foreground of the design, stood motionless and
statue-like — while, farther back, its discomfited rider per-
ished by the dagger of a Metzengerstein.

On Frederick's lip arose a fiendish expression, as he be-
came aware of the direction which his glance had, without
his consciousness, assumed. Yet he did not remove it.
On the contrary, he could by no means account for the
overwhelming anxiety which appeared falling like a pall
upon his senses. It was with difficulty that he reconciled
his dreamy and incoherent feelings with the certainty of
being awake. The longer he gazed the more absorbing
became the spell — the more impossible did it appear that
he could ever withdraw his glance from the fascination of
that tapestry. But the tumult without becoming sud-
denly more violent, with a compulsory exertion he diverted
his attention to the glare of ruddy light thrown full by
the flaming stables upon the windows of the apartment.

1 36 ME TZENGERS TEW.

The action, however, was but momentary ; his gaze re-
turned mechanically to the wall. To his extreme horror
and astonishment, the head of the gigantic steed had, in
the meantime, altered its position. The neck of the
animal, before arched, as if in compassion, over the pros-
trate body of its lord, was now extended, at full length,
in the direction of the Baron. The eyes, before invisible,
now wore an energetic and human expression, while they
gleamed with a fiery and unusual red ; and the distended
lips of the apparently enraged horse left in full view his
sepulchral and disgusting teeth.

Stupefied with terror, the young nobleman tottered to
the door. As he threw it open, a flash of red light,
streaming far into the chamber, flung his shadow with a
clear outline against the quivering tapestry ; and he shud-
dered to perceive that shadow — as he staggered awhile
upon the threshold — assuming the exact position, and
precisely filling up the contour, of the relentless and tri-
umphant murderer of the Saracen Berlifitzing.

To lighten the depression of his spirits, the Baron hur-
ried into the open air. At the principal gate of the palace
he encountered three equerries. With much difficulty,
and at the imminent peril of their lives, they were re-
straining the convulsive plunges of a gigantic and fiery-
colored horse.

" Whose horse ? Where did you get him ? " demanded
the youth, in a querulous and husky tone, as he became
instantly aware that the mysterious steed in the tapestried

ME TZENGERSTEIN. 1 3 7

chamber was the very counterpart of the furious animal
before his eyes.

" He is your own property, sire," replied one of the
equerries, " at least he is claimed by no other owner. We
caught him flying, all smoking and foaming with rage,
from the burning stables of the Castle Berlifitzing. Sup-
posing him to have belonged to the old Count's stud of
foreign horses, we led him back as an estray. But the
grooms there disclaim any title to the creature ; which
is strange, since he bears evident marks of having made
a narrow escape from the flames.

" The letters W. V. B. are also branded very distinctly
on his forehead," interrupted a second equerry; " I sup-
posed them, of course, to be the initials of William Von
Berlifitzing — but all at the castle are positive in denying
any knowledge of the horse."

" Extremely singular ! " said the young Baron, with a
musing air, and apparently unconscious of the meaning of
his words. " He is, as you say, a remarkable horse — a
prodigious horse ! although, as you very justly observe,
of a suspicious and untractable character; let him be
mine, however," he added, after a pause, "perhaps a rider
like Frederick of Metzengerstein, may tame even the devil
from the stables of Berlifitzing." ?

" You are mistaken, my lord ; the horse, as I think we
mentioned, is not from the stables of the Count. If such
had been the case, we know our duty better than to bring
him into the presence of a noble of your family."

I38 ME TZENGERSTEIN.

" True ! " observed the Baron, drily ; and at that instant
a page of the bed-chamber came from the palace with
a heightened color, and a precipitate step. He whis-
pered into his masters ear an account of the sudden dis-
appearance of a small portion of the tapestry, in an apart-
ment which he designated ; entering, at the same time,
into particulars of a minute and circumstantial character ;
but from the low tone of voice in which these latter were
communicated, nothing escaped to gratify the excited
curiosity of the equerries.

The young Frederick, during the conference, seemed
agitated by a variety of emotions. He soon, however,
recovered his composure, and an expression of deter-
mined malignancy settled upon his countenance, as he
gave peremptory orders that the apartment in question
should be immediately locked up, and the key placed in
his own possession.

" Have you heard of the unhappy death of the old
hunter Berlifitzing ? " said one of his vassals to the
Baron, as, after the departure of the page, the huge steed
which that nobleman had adopted as his own, plunged
and curveted, with redoubled fury, down the long avenue
which extended from the palace to the stables of Metzen-
gerstein.

" No ! " said the Baron, turning abruptly toward the
speaker, " dead ! say you ? "

" It is indeed true, my lord ; and, to the noble of your
name, will be, I imagine, no unwelcome intelligence."

ME TZENGERSTEIN. 1 39

A rapid smile shot over the countenance of the listener.
" How died he?"

" In his rash exertions to rescue a favorite portion of the
hunting stud, he has himself perished miserably in the
flames."

" I — n — d — e— e — d — ! " ejaculated the Baron, as if
slowly and deliberately impressed with the truth of some
exciting idea.

" Indeed " ; repeated the vassal.

" Shocking ! " said the youth, calmly, and turned quietly
into the palace.

From this date a marked alteration took place in the
outward demeanor of the dissolute young Baron Fred-
erick Von Metzengerstein. Indeed, his behavior disap-
pointed every expectation, and proved little in accordance
with the views of many a manoeuvring mamma; while
his habits and manner, still less than formerly, offered
any thing congenial with those of the neighboring aris-
tocracy. He was never to be seen beyond the limits
of his own domain, and, in his wide and social world,
was utterly companionless — unless, indeed, that unnatural,
impetuous, and fiery-colored horse, which he hencefor-
ward continually bestrode, had any mysterious right to
the title of his friend.

Numerous invitations on the part of the neighborhood
for a long time, however, periodically came in. " Will
the Baron honor our festivals with his presence? " " Will
the Baron join us in a hunting of the boar?" — " Metzen-

1 40 ME TZENGERSTEIN.

gerstein does not hunt " ; " Metzengerstein will not attend,"
were the haughty and laconic answers.

These repeated insults were not to be endured by
an imperious nobility. Such invitations became less
cordial — less frequent — in time they ceased altogether.
The widow of the unfortunate Count Berlifitzing was
even heard to express a hope " that the Baron might be
at home when he did not wish to be at home, since
he disdained the company of his equals ; and ride when
he did not wish to ride, since he preferred the society of a
horse." This to be sure was a very silly explosion of
hereditary pique ; and merely proved how singularly un-
meaning our sayings are apt to become, when we desire
to be unusually energetic.

The charitable, nevertheless, attributed the alteration
in the conduct of the young nobleman to the natural
sorrow of a son for the untimely loss of his parents ; —
forgetting, however, his atrocious and reckless behavior
during the short period immediately succeeding that
bereavement. Some there were, indeed, who suggested a
too haughty idea of self-consequence and dignity. Others
again (among whom may be mentioned the family physi-
cian) did not hesitate in speaking of morbid melancholy,
and hereditary ill-health ; while dark hints, of a more
equivocal nature, were current among the multitude.

Indeed, the Baron's perverse attachment to his lately-
acquired charger — an attachment which seemed to attain
new strength from every fresh example of the animal's

ME TZENGERS TEIN. 1 4 l

ferocious and demon-like propensities — at length became,
in the eyes of all reasonable men, a hideous and unnatural
fervor. In the glare of noon — at the dead hour of night —
in sickness or in health — in calm or in tempest — the young
Metzengerstein seemed riveted to the saddle of that
colossal horse, whose intractable audacities so well ac-
corded with his own spirit.

There were circumstances, moreover, which, coupled
with late events, gave an unearthly and portentous char-
acter to the mania of the rider, and to the capabilities of
the steed. The space passed over in a single leap had
been accurately measured, and was found to exceed, by an
astounding difference, the wildest expectations of the
most imaginative. The Baron, besides, had no particular
name for the animal, although all the rest in his collection
were distinguished by characteristic appellations. His
stable, too, was appointed at a distance from the rest ;
and with regard to grooming and other necessary offices,
none but the owner in person had ventured to officiate,
or even to enter the enclosure of that horse's particular
stall. It was also to be observed, that although the three
grooms, who had caught the steed as he fled from the
conflagration at Berlifitzing, had succeeded in arresting
his course, by means of a chain-bridle and noose — yet not
one of the three could with any certainty affirm that he
had, during that dangerous struggle, or at any period
thereafter, actually placed his hand upon the body of the
beast. Instances of peculiar intelligence in the demeanor

1 42 ME TZENGERS TEIN.

of a noble and high-spirited horse are not to be supposed
capable of exciting unreasonable attention, but there
were certain circumstances which intruded themselves per
force upon the most skeptical and phlegmatic ; and it is
said there were times when the animal caused the gaping
crowd who stood around to recoil in horror from the
deep and impressive meaning of his terrible stamp — times
when the young Metzengerstein turned pale and shrunk
away from the rapid and searching expression of his
human-looking eye.

Among all the retinue of the Baron, however, none were
found to doubt the ardor of that extraordinary affection
which existed on the part of the young nobleman for the
fiery qualities of his horse ; at least, none but an insignifi-
cant and misshapen little page, whose deformities were in
everybody's way, and whose opinions were of the least
possible importance. He (if his ideas are worth mention-
ing at all) had the affrontery to assert that his master
never vaulted into the saddle without an unaccountable
and almost imperceptible shudder; and that, upon his
return from every long-continued and habitual ride, an ex-
pression of triumphant malignity distorted every muscle
in his countenance.

One tempestuous night, Metzengerstein, awaking from
a heavy slumber, descended like a maniac from his cham-
ber, and, mounting in hot haste, bounded away into the
mazes of the forest. An occurrence so common attracted
no particular attention, but his return was looked for

METZENGERSTEIN. 143

with intense anxiety on the part of his domestics, when,
after some hours' absence, the stupendous and magnifi-
cent battlements of the Palace Metzengerstein, were
discovered crackling and rocking to their very founda-
tion, under the influence of a dense and livid mass of
ungovernable fire.

As the flames, when first seen, had already made so
terrible a progress that all efforts to save any portion of
the building were evidently futile, the astonished neigh-
borhood stood idly around in silent if not pathetic won-
der. But a new and fearful object soon riveted the at-
tention of the multitude, and proved how much more
intense is the excitement wrought in the feelings of a
crowd by the contemplation of human agony, than that
brought about by the most appalling spectacles of inani-
mate matter.

Up the long avenue of aged oaks which led from the
forest to the main entrance of the Palace Metzengerstein,
a steed, bearing an unbonneted and disordered rider, was
seen leaping with an impetuosity which outstripped the
very Demon of the Tempest.

The career of the horseman was indisputably, on his
own part, uncontrollable. The agony of his countenance,
the convulsive struggle of his frame, gave evidence of
superhuman exertion : but no sound, save a solitary
shriek, escaped from his lacerated lips, which were bitten
through and through in the intensity of terror. One in-
stant, and the clattering of hoofs resounded sharply and

144 METZENGERSTEIN.

shrilly above the roaring of the flames and the shrieking of
the winds — another, and, clearing at a single plunge the
gate-way and the moat, the steed bounded far up the
tottering staircases of the palace, and, with its rider, dis-
appeared amid the whirlwind of chaotic fire.

The fury of the tempest immediately died away, and a
dead calm sullenly succeeded. A white flame still en-
veloped the building like a shroud, and, streaming far
away into the quiet atmosphere, shot forth a glare of pre-
ternatural light ; while a cloud of smoke settled heavily
over the battlements in the distinct colossal figure of —
a horse*

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A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

DURING the fall of the year 1827, while residing
near Charlottesville, Virginia, I casually made the
acquaintance of Mr. Augustus Bedloe. This young gentle-
man was remarkable in every respect, and excited in me
a profound interest and curiosity. I found it impossible
to comprehend him either in his moral or his physical rela-
tions. Of his family I could obtain no satisfactory account.
Whence he came, I never ascertained. Even about his
age — although I call him a young gentleman — there was
something which perplexed me in no little degree. He
certainly seemed young — and he made a point of speaking
about his youth — yet there were moments when I should
have had little trouble in imagining him a hundred years
of age. But in no regard was he more peculiar than in his
personal appearance. He was singularly tall and thin. He
stooped much. His limbs were exceedingly long and
emaciated. His forehead was broad and low. His com-
plexion was absolutely bloodless. His mouth was large
and flexible, and his teeth were more wildly uneven, al-
though sound, than I had ever before seen teeth in a

145

146 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

human head. The expression of his smile, however, was
by no means unpleasing, as might be supposed ; but it had
no variation whatever. It was one of profound melan-
choly— of a phaseless and unceasing gloom. His eyes were
abnormally large, and round like those of a cat. The
pupils, too, upon any accession or diminution of light, un-
derwent contraction or dilation, just such as is observed
in the feline tribe. In moments of excitement the orbs
grew bright to a degree almost inconceivable ; seeming to
emit luminous rays, not of a reflected but of an intrinsic
lustre, as does a candle or the sun ; yet their ordinary con-
dition was so totally vapid, filmy, and dull, as to convey
the idea of the eyes of a long-interred corpse.

These peculiarities of person appeared to cause him
much annoyance, and he was continually alluding to them
in a sort of half explanatory, half apologetic strain, which,
when I first heard it, impressed me very painfully. I soon,
however, grew accustomed to it, and my uneasiness wore
off. It seemed to be his design rather to insinuate than
directly to assert that, physically, he had not always been
what he was — that a long series of neuralgic attacks had
reduced him from a condition of more than usual personal
beauty, to that which I saw. For many years past he had
been attended by a physician, named Templeton — an old
gentleman, perhaps seventy years of age — whom he had
first encountered at Saratoga, and from whose attention,
while there, he either received, or fancied that he received,
great benefit. The result was that Bedloe, who was wealthy,

A TALE OF THE LAGGED MOUNTAINS. 1 47

had made an arrangement with Dr. Templeton, by which
the latter, in consideration of a liberal annual allowance,
had consented to devote his time and medical experience
exclusively to the care of the invalid.

Doctor Templeton had been a traveller in his younger
days, and at Paris had become a convert, in great measure,
to the doctrine of Mesmer. It was altogether by means
of magnetic remedies that he had succeeded in alleviating
the acute pains of his patient ; and this success had very
naturally inspired the latter with a certain degree of con-
fidence in the opinions from which the remedies had been
educed. The Doctor, however, like all enthusiasts, had
struggled hard to make a thorough convert of his pupil,
and finally so far gained his point as to induce the sufferer
to submit to numerous experiments. By a frequent
repetition of these, a result had arisen, which of late days
has become so common as to attract little or no attention,
but which, at the period of which I write, had very rarely
been known in America. I mean to say, that between
Doctor Templeton and Bedloe there had grown up, little
by little, a very distinct and strongly marked rapport, or
magnetic relation. I am not prepared to assert, however,
that this rapport extended beyond the limits of the simple
sleep-producing power ; but this power itself had attained
great intensity. At the first attempt to induce the mag-
netic somnolency, the mesmerist entirely failed. In the
fifth or sixth he succeeded very partially, and after long-
continued effort. Only at the twelfth was the triumph

148 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

complete. After this the will of the patient succumbed
rapidly to that of the physician, so that, when I first be-
came acquainted with the two, sleep was brought about
almost instantaneously by the mere volition of the opera-
tor, even when the invalid was unaware of his presence.
It is only now, in the year 1845, when similar miracles are
witnessed daily by thousands, that I dare venture to record
this apparent impossibility as a matter of serious fact.

The temperature of Bedloe was, in the highest degree
sensitive, excitable, enthusiastic. His imagination was
singularly vigorous and creative ; and no doubt it derived
additional force from the habitual use of morphine, which
he swallowed in great quantity, and without which he
would have found it impossible to exist. It was his prac-
tice to take a very large dose of it immediately after
breakfast each morning, — or, rather, immediately after a
cup of strong coffee, for he ate nothing in the forenoon, —
and then set forth alone, or attended only by a dog, upon
a long ramble among the chain of wild and dreary hills
that lie westward and southward of Charlottesville, and
are there dignified by the title of the Ragged Mountains.

Upon a dim, warm, misty day, toward the close of No-
vember, and during the strange interregnum of the seasons
which in America is termed the Indian summer, Mr. Bed-
loe departed as usual for the hills. The day passed, and
still he did not return.

About eight o'clock at night, having become seriously
alarmed at his protracted absence, we were about setting

A TALE OF THE FAGGED MOUNTAINS. 1 49

out in search of him, when he unexpectedly made his ap-
pearance, in health no worse than usual, and in rather
more than ordinary spirits. The account which he gave
of his expedition, and of the events which had detained
him, was a singular one indeed.

u You will remember," said he " that it was about nine
in the morning when I left Charlottesville. I bent my
steps immediately to the mountains, and, about ten, en-
tered a gorge which was entirely new to me. I followed
the windings of this pass with much interest. The
scenery which presented itself on all sides, although
scarcely entitled to be called grand, had about it an inde-
scribable and to me a delicious aspect of dreary desola-
tion. The solitude seemed absolutely virgin. I could
not help believing that the green sods and the gray rocks
upon which I trod had been trodden never before by the
foot of a human being. So entirely secluded, and in fact
inaccessible, except through a series of accidents, is the
entrance of the ravine, that it is by no means impossible
that I was indeed the first adventurer — the very first and
sole adventurer who had ever penetrated its recesses.

" The thick and peculiar mist, or smoke, which distin-
guishes the Indian summer, and which now hung heavily
over all objects, served, no doubt, to deepen the vague
impressions which these objects created. So dense was
this pleasant fog that I could at no time see more than a
dozen yards of the path before me. This path was exces-
sively sinuous, and as the sun could not be seen, I soon

150 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

lost all idea of the direction in which I journeyed. In
the meantime the morphine had its customary effect —
that of enduing all the external world with an intensity of
interest. In the quivering of a leaf — in the hue of a blade
of grass — in the shape of a trefoil — in the humming of a
bee — in the gleaming of a dew-drop — in the breathing of
the wind — in the faint odors that came from the forest —
there came a whole universe of suggestion — a gay and
motley train of rhapsodical and immethodical thought.

" Busied in this, I walked on for several hours, during
which the mist deepened around me to so great an extent
that at length I was reduced to an absolute groping of the
way. And now an indescribable uneasiness possessed me
— a species of nervous hesitation and tremor. I feared to
tread, lest I should be precipitated into some abyss. I
remembered, too, strange stories told about these Ragged
Hills, and of the uncouth and fierce races of men who
tenanted their groves and caverns. A thousand vague
fancies oppressed and disconcerted me — fancies the more
distressing because vague. Very suddenly my attention
was arrested by the loud beating of a drum.

" My amazement was, of course, extreme. A drum in
these hills was a thing unknown. I could not have been
more surprised at the sound of the trump of the Arch-
angel. But a new and still more astounding source of
interest and perplexity arose. There came a wild rattling
or jingling sound, as if of a bunch of large keys, and upon
the instant a dusky-visaged and half-naked man rushed

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS. 151

past me with a shriek. He came so close to my person
that I felt his hot breath upon my face. He bore in one
hand an instrument composed of an assemblage of steel
rings, and shook them vigorously as he ran. Scarcely had
he disappeared in the mist, before, panting after him, with
open mouth and glaring eyes, there darted a huge beast.
I could not be mistaken in its character. It was a hyena.

" The sight of this monster rather relieved than height-
ened my terrors — for I now made sure that I dreamed,
and endeavored to arouse myself to waking consciousness.
I stepped boldly and briskly forward. I rubbed my eyes.
I called aloud. I pinched my limbs. A small spring of
water presented itself to my view, and here, stooping, I
bathed my hands and my head and neck. This seemed
to dissipate the equivocal sensations which had hitherto
annoyed me. I arose, as I thought, a new man, and
proceeded steadily and complacently on my unknown
way.

" At length, quite overcome by exertion, and by a cer-
tain oppressive closeness of the atmosphere, I seated my-
self beneath a tree. Presently there came a feeble gleam
of sunshine, and the shadow of the leaves of the tree fell
faintly but definitely upon the grass. At this shadow I
gazed wonderingly for many minutes. Its character stu-
pefied me with astonishment. I looked upward. The
tree was a palm.

" I now arose hurriedly, and in a state of fearful agita-
tion— for the fancy that I dreamed would serve me no

152 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

longer. I saw — I felt that I had perfect command of
my senses — and these senses now brought to my soul a
world of novel and singular sensation. The heat became
all at once intolerable. A strange odor loaded the breeze.
A low, continuous murmur, like that arising from a full, but
gently flowing river, came to my ears, intermingled with
the peculiar hum of multitudinous human voices.

"While I listened in an extremity of astonishment
which I need not attempt to describe, a strong and brief
gust of wind bore off the incumbent fog as if by the wand
of an enchanter.

" I found myself at the foot of a high mountain, and
looking down into a vast plain, through which wound a
majestic river. On the margin of this river stood an
Eastern-looking city, such as we read of in the Arabian
Tales, but of a character even more singular than any
there described. From my position, which was far above
the level of the town, I could perceive its every nook and
corner, as if delineated on a map. The streets seemed
innumerable, and crossed each other irregularly in all
directions, but were rather long winding alleys than
streets, and absolutely swarmed with inhabitants. The
houses were wildly picturesque. On every hand was a
wilderness of balconies, of verandas, of minarets, of
shrines, and fantastically carved oriels. Bazaars abounded ;
and there were displayed rich wares in infinite variety
and profusion — silks, muslins, the most dazzling cutlery,
the most magnificent jewels and gems. Besides these

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS. 1 53

things, were seen, on all sides, banners and palanquins,
litters with stately dames close-veiled, elephants gor-
geously caparisoned, idols grotesquely hewn, drums, ban-
ners, and gongs, spears, silver and gilded maces. And
amid the crowd, and the clamor, and the general intricacy
and confusion — amid the million of black and yellow
men, turbaned and robed, and of flowing beard, there
roamed a countless multitude of holy filleted bulls, while
vast legions of the filthy but sacred ape clambered, chat-
tering and shrieking, about the cornices of the mosques,
or clung to the minarets and oriels. From the swarming
streets to the banks of the river, there descended innu-
merable flights of steps leading to bathing places, while the
river itself seemed to force a passage with difficulty through
the vast fleets of deeply burdened ships that far and wide
encountered its surface. Beyond the limits of the city
arose, in frequent majestic groups, the palm and the cocoa,
with other gigantic and weird trees of vast age ; and here
and there might be seen a field of rice, the thatched hut
of a peasant, a tank, a stray temple, a gypsy camp, or a
solitary graceful maiden taking her way, with a pitcher
upon her head, to the banks of the magnificent river.

" You will say now, of course, that I dreamed ; but not
so. What I saw — what I heard — what I felt — what I
thought — had about it nothing of the unmistakable idiosyn-
crasy of the dream. All was rigorously self-consistent. At
first, doubting that I was really awake, I entered into a
series of tests, which soon convinced me that I really was.

154 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

Now, when one dreams, and, in the dream, suspects that
he dreams, the suspicion never fails to cotifirm itself, and
the sleeper is almost immediately aroused. Thus Novalis
errs not in saying that ' we are near waking when we dream
that we dream.' Had the vision occurred to me as I de-
scribe it, without my suspecting it as a dream, then a
dream it might absolutely have been, but, occurring as it
did, and suspected and tested as it was, I am forced to
class it among other phenomena."

" In this I am not sure that you are wrong," observed
Dr. Templeton, " but proceed. You arose and descended
into the city."

" I arose," continued Bedloe, regarding the Doctor with
an air of profound astonishment, " I arose, as you say, and
descended into the city. On my way I fell in with an
immense populace, crowding through every avenue, all in
the same direction, and exhibiting in every action the
wildest excitement. Very suddenly, and by some incon-
ceivable impulse, I became intensely imbued with personal
interest in what was going on. I seemed to feel that I
had an important part to play, without exactly under-
standing what it was. Against the crowd which environed
me, however, I experienced a deep sentiment of ani-
mosity. I shrank from amid them, and, swiftly, by a
circuitous path, reached and entered the city. Here all
was the wildest tumult and contention. A small party of
men, clad in garments half Indian, half European, and
officered by gentlemen in a uniform partly British, were

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS. 1 55

engaged, at great odds, with the swarming rabble of the
the alleys. I joined the weaker party, arming myself with
the weapons of a fallen officer, and righting I knew not
whom with the nervous ferocity of despair. We were
soon overpowered by numbers, and driven to seek refuge
in a species of kiosk. Here we barricaded ourselves, and,
for the present, were secure. From a loop-hole near the
summit of the kiosk, I perceived a vast crowd, in furious
agitation, surrounding and assaulting a gay palace that
overhung the river. Presently, from an upper window of
this palace, there descended an effeminate-looking person,
by means of a string made of the turbans of his attend-
ants. A boat was at hand, in which he escaped to the
opposite bank of the river.

" And now a new object took possession of my soul. I
spoke a few hurried but energetic words to my compan-
ions, and, having succeeded in gaining over a few of them
to my purpose, made a frantic sally from the kiosk. We
rushed amid the crowd that surrounded it. They re-
treated, at first, before us. They rallied, fought madly,
and retreated again. In the meantime we were borne
far from the kiosk, and became bewildered and entan-
gled among the narrow streets of tall, overhanging houses,
into the recesses of which the sun had never been able to
shine. The rabble pressed impetuously upon us, harass-
ing us with their spears, and overwhelming us with flights
of arrows. These latter were very remarkable, and resem-
bled in some respects the writhing creese of the Malay.

156 A TALE OF THE LAGGED MOUNTAINS.

They were made to imitate the body of a creeping ser-
pent, and were long and black, with a poisoned barb.
One of them struck me upon the right temple. I reeled
and fell. An instantaneous and dreadful sickness seized
me. I struggled — I gasped — I died."

"You will hardly persist now" said I, smiling, " that
the whole of your adventure was not a dream. You are
not prepared to maintain that you are dead ? "

When I said these words, I of course expected some
lively sally from Bedloe in reply ; but, to my astonish-
ment, he hesitated, trembled, became fearfully pallid, and
remained silent. I looked toward Templeton. He sat
erect and rigid in his chair — his teeth chattered, and his
eyes were starting from their sockets. " Proceed ! " he at
length said hoarsely to Bedloe.

" For many minutes," continued the latter, " my sole
sentiment — my sole feeling — was that of darkness and
nonentity, with the consciousness of death. At length
there seemed to pass a violent and sudden shock through
my soul, as if of electricity. With it came the sense of
elasticity and of light. This latter I felt — not saw. In
an instant I seemed to rise from the ground. But I had
no bodily, no visible, audible, or palpable presence. The
crowd had departed. The tumult had ceased. The city
was in comparative repose. Beneath me lay my corpse,
with the arrow in my temple, the whole head greatly
swollen and disfigured. But all these things I felt — not
saw. I took interest in nothing. Even the corpse seemed

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS. 157

a matter in which I had no concern. Volition I had
none, but appeared to be impelled into motion, and flitted
buoyantly out of the city, retracing the circuitous path by
which I had entered it. When I had attained that point
of the ravine in the mountains at which I had encountered
the hyena, I again experienced a shock as of a galvanic
battery ; the sense of weight, of volition, of substance, re-
turned. I became my original self, and bent my steps
eagerly homeward — but the past had not lost the vivid-
ness of the real — and not now, even for an instant, can I
compel my understanding to regard it as a dream."

" Nor was it," said Templeton, with an air of deep
solemnity, " yet it would be difficult to say how otherwise
it should be termed. Let us suppose only, that the soul
of the man of to-day is upon the verge of some stupendous
psychal discoveries. Let us content ourselves with this
supposition. For the rest I have some explanation to
make. Here is a water-color drawing, which I should
have shown you before, but which an unaccountable senti-
ment of horror has hitherto prevented me from showing."

We looked at the picture which he presented. I saw
nothing in it of an extraordinary character ; but its effect
upon Bedloe was prodigious. He nearly fainted as he
gazed. And yet it was but a miniature portrait — a mir-
aculously accurate one, to be sure — of his own very re-
markable features. At least this was my thought as I
regarded it.

" You will perceive," said Templeton, " the date of this

158 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

picture — it is here, scarcely visible, in this corner — 1780. In
this year was the portrait taken. It is the likeness of a dead
friend — a Mr. Oldeb — to whom I became much attached
at Calcutta, during the administration of Warren Hastings.
I was then only twenty years old. When I first saw you,
Mr. Bedloe, at Saratoga, it was the miraculous similarity
which existed between yourself and the painting which
induced me to accost you, to seek your friendship, and to
bring about those arrangements which resulted in my be-
coming your constant companion. In accomplishing this
point, I was urged partly, and perhaps principally, by a
regretful memory of the deceased, but also, in part, by an
uneasy, and not altogether horrorless curiosity respecting
yourself.

" In your detail of the vision which presented itself to
you amid the hills, you have described, with the minutest
accuracy, the Indian city of Benares, upon the Holy
River. The riots, the combat, the massacre, were the ac-
tual events of the insurrection of Cheyte Sing, which took
place in 1780, when Hastings was put in imminent peril of
his life. The man escaping by the string of turbans was
Cheyte Sing himself. The party in the kiosk were sepoys
and British officers, headed by Hastings. Of this party I
was one, and did all I could to prevent the rash and fatal
sally of the officer who fell, in the crowded alleys, by the
poisoned arrow of a Bengalee. That officer was my
dearest friend. It was Oldeb. You will perceive by these
manuscripts," (here the speaker produced a note-book in

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS. 1 59

which several pages appeared to have been freshly written,)
u that at the very period in which you fancied these
things amid the hills, I was engaged in detailing them
upon paper here at home."

In about a week after this conversation, the following
paragraphs appeared in a Charlottesville paper :

" We have the painful duty of announcing the death of
Mr. AUGUSTUS BEDLO, a gentleman whose amiable
manners and many virtues have long endeared him to the
citizens of Charlottesville.

" Mr. B., for some years past, has been subject to neu-
ralgia, which has often threatened to terminate fatally ;
but this can be regarded only as the mediate cause of his
decease. The proximate cause was one of especial singu-
larity. In an excursion to the Ragged Mountains, a few
days since, a slight cold and fever were contracted, at-
tended with great determination of blood to the head.
To relieve this, Dr. Templeton resorted to topical bleed-
ing. Leeches were applied to the temples. In a fearfully
brief period the patient died, when it appeared that, in
the jar containing the leeches, had been introduced, by ac-
cident, one of the venomous vermicular sangsues which
are now and then found in the neighboring ponds. This
creature fastened itself upon a small artery in the right
temple. Its close resemblance to the medicinal leech
caused the mistake to be overlooked until too late.

" N.B. — The poisonous sangsue of Charlottesville may
always be distinguished from the medicinal leech by its

160 A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS.

blackness, and especially by its writhing or vermicular
motions, which very nearly resemble those of a snake."

I was speaking with the editor of the paper in question,
upon the topic of this remarkable accident, when it oc-
curred to me to ask how it happened that the name of
the deceased had been given as Bedlo.

"I presume," said I, "you have authority for this
spelling, but I have always supposed the name to be
written with an e at the end."

"Authority? — no," he replied. "It is a mere typo-
graphical error. The name is Bedlo with an e, all the
world over, and I never knew it to be spelt otherwise in
my life."

" Then," said I mutteringly, as I turned upon my heel,
" then indeed has it come to pass that one truth is
stranger than any fiction — for Bedlo, without the e, what
is it but Oldeb conversed ! And this man tells me it is a
typographical error."

«*x^&mm&<&^

THE SPECTACLES.

MANY years ago, it was the fashion to ridicule the
idea of "love at first sight"; but those who
think, not less than those who feel deeply, have always
advocated its existence. Modern discoveries, indeed, in
what may be termed ethical magnetism or magneto-
aesthetics, render it probable that the most natural, and,
consequently, the truest and most intense of the human
affections are those which arise in the heart as if by
electric sympathy — in a word, that the brightest and most
enduring of the psychal fetters are those which are
riveted by a glance. The confession I am about to make
will add another to the already almost innumerable in-
stances of the truth of the position.

My story requires that I should be somewhat minute.
I am still a very young man — not yet twenty-two years
of age. My name, at present, is a very usual and rather
plebeian one — Simpson. I say " at present " ; for it is
only lately that I have been so called — having legisla-
latively adopted this surname within the last year, in
order to receive a large inheritance left me by a distant

161

1 62 THE SPECTACLES.

male relative, Adolphus Simpson, Esq. The bequest was
conditioned upon my taking the name of the testator.
— the family, not the Christian name ; my Christian name
is Napoleon Buonaparte — or, more properly, these are
my first and middle appellations.

I assumed the name, Simpson, with some reluctance,
as in my true patronym, Froissart, I felt a very pardon-
able pride — believing that I could trace a descent from
the immortal author of the " Chronicles." While on the
subject of names, by the by, I may mention a singular
coincidence of sound attending the names of some of
my immediate predecessors. My father was a Monsieur
Froissart, of Paris. His wife — my mother, whom he
married at fifteen — was a Mademoiselle Croissart, eldest
daughter of Croissart the banker ; whose wife, again,
being only sixteen when married, wras the eldest daughter
of one Victor Voissart. Monsieur Voissart, very singu-
larly, had married a lady of similar name — a Mademoiselle
Moissart. She, too, was quite a child when married ;
and her mother, also, Madame Moissart, was only fourteen
when led to the altar. These early marriages are usual
in France. Here, however, are Moissart, Voissart, Crois-
sart, and Froissart, all in the direct line of descent. My
own name, though, as I say, became Simpson, by act of
Legislature, and with so much repugnance on my part,
that, at one period, I actually hesitated about accepting
the legacy with the useless and annoying proviso attached.

As to personal endowments, I am by no means defi-

THE SPECTACLES. 1 63

cient. On the contrary, I believe that I am well made,
and possess what nine tenths of the world would call a
handsome face. In height I am five feet eleven. My
hair is black and curling. My nose is sufficiently good.
My eyes are large and gray ; and although, in fact, they
are weak to a very inconvenient degree, still no defect in
this regard would be suspected from their appearance.
The weakness itself, however, has always much annoyed
me, and I have resorted to every remedy — short of wear-
ing glasses. Being youthful and good-looking, I naturally
dislike these, and have resolutely refused to employ them.
I know nothing, indeed, which so disfigures the counte-
nance of a young person, or so impresses every feature with
an air of demureness, if not altogether of sanctimoniousness
and of age. An eye-glass, on the other hand, has a savor
of downright foppery and affectation. I have hitherto
managed as well as I could without either. But some-
thing too much of these merely personal details, which,
after all, are of little importance. I will content myself
with saying, in addition, that my temperament is san-
guine, rash, ardent, enthusiastic — and that all my life I
have been a devoted admirer of the women.

One night last winter I entered a box at the P

Theatre, in company with a friend, Mr. Talbot. It was
an opera night, and the bills presented a very rare attrac-
tion, so that the house was excessively crowded. We
were in time, however, to obtain the front seats which
had been reserved for us, and into which, with some little
difficulty, we elbowed our way.

164 THE SPECTACLES.

For two hours my companion, who was a musical fana-
tico, gave his undivided attention to the stage ; and, in
the meantime, I amused myself by observing the audi-
ence, which consisted, in chief part, of the very /lite of
the city. Having satisfied myself upon this point, I was
about turning my eyes to the prima donna, when they
were arrested and riveted by a figure in one of the private
boxes which had escaped my observation.

If I live a thousand years I can never forget the intense
emotion with which I regarded this figure. It was that
of a female, the most exquisite I had ever beheld. The
face was so far turned toward the stage that, for some
minutes, I could not obtain a view of it, — but the form
was divine ; no other word can sufficiently express its
magnificent proportion, — and even the term " divine "
seems ridiculously feeble as I write it.

The magic of a lovely form in woman — the necromancy
of female gracefulness — was always a power which I had
found it impossible to resist ; but here was grace personi-
fied, incarnate, the beau ide*al of my wildest and most en-
thusiastic visions. The figure, almost all of which the
construction of the box permitted to be seen, was some-
what above the medium height, and nearly approached,
without positively reaching, the majestic. Its perfect
fulness and tournure were delicious. The head, of which
only the back was visible, rivalled in outline that of the
Greek Psyche, and was rather displayed than concealed
by an elegant cap of gaze afrienne, which put me in mind

THE SPECTACLES. 1 65

of the ventum textilcm of Apuleius. The right arm hung
over the balustrade of the box, and thrilled every nerve
of my frame with its exquisite symmetry. Its upper por-
tion was draperied by one of the loose open sleeves now
in fashion. This extended but little below the elbow.
Beneath it was worn an under one of some frail material,
close-fitting, and terminated by a cuff of rich lace, which
fell gracefully over the top of the hand, revealing only
the delicate fingers, upon one of which sparkled a diamond
ring, which I at once saw was of extraordinary value.
The admirable roundness of the wrist was well set off by
a bracelet which encircled it, and which also was orna-
mented and clasped by a magnificent aigrette of jewels, —
telling, in words that could not be mistaken, at once of
the wealth and fastidious taste of the wearer.

I gazed at this queenly apparition for at least half an
hour, as if I had been suddenly converted to stone ; and,
during this period, I felt the full force and truth of all
that has been said or sung concerning " love at first
sight." My feelings were totally different from any which
I had hitherto experienced, in the presence of even the
most celebrated specimens of female loveliness. An un-
accountable, and what I am compelled to consider a mag-
netic, sympathy of soul for soul, seemed to rivet, not only
my vision, but my whole powers of thought and feeling,
upon the admirable object before me. I saw — I felt — I
knew that I was deeply, madly, irrevocably in love — and
this even before seeing the face of the person beloved.

1 66 THE SPECTACLES.

So intense, indeed, was the passion that consumed me,
that I really believe it would have received little if any
abatement had the features, yet unseen, proved of merely
ordinary character ; so anomalous is the nature of the
only true love — of the love at first sight — and so little
really dependent is it upon the external conditions which
only seem to create and control it.

While I was thus wrapped in admiration of this lovely
vision, a sudden disturbance among the audience caused
her to turn her head partially toward me, so that I beheld
the entire profile of the face. Its beauty even exceeded
my anticipations — and yet there was something about it
which disappointed me without my being able to tell ex-
actly what it was. I said " disappointed," but this is not
altogether the word. My sentiments were at once quieted
and exalted. They partook less of transport and more of
calm enthusiasm — of enthusiastic repose. This state of
feeling arose, perhaps, from the Madonna-like and
matronly air of the face ; and yet I at once understood
that it could not have arisen entirely from this. There
was something else — some mystery which I could not de-
velop— some expression about the countenance which
slightly disturbed me while it greatly heightened my in-
terest. In fact, I was just in that condition of mind which
prepares a young and susceptible man for any act of ex-
travagance. Had the lady been alone, I should undoubt-
edly have entered her box and accosted her at all hazards ;
but, fortunately, she was attended by two companions— a

THE SPECTACLES. 1 67

gentleman, and a strikingly beautiful woman, to all ap-
pearance a few years younger than herself.

I revolved in my mind a thousand schemes by which I
might obtain, hereafter, an introduction to the elder lady,
or, for the present, at all events, a more distinct view of
her beauty. I would have removed my position to one
nearer her own, but the crowded state of the theatre ren-
dered this impossible ; and the stern decrees of Fashion
had, of late, imperatively prohibited the use of the opera-
glass, in a case such as this, even had I been so fortunate
as to have one with me — but I had not — and was thus in
despair.

At length I bethought me of applying to my com-
panion.

" Talbot," I said, "you have an opera-glass. Let me
have it."

" An opera-glass ! — no ! — what do you suppose /would
be doing with an opera-glass?" Here he turned impa-
tiently toward the stage.

" But, Talbot," I continued, pulling him by the shoul-
der, " listen to me, will you? Do you see the stage-box ?
— there ! — no, the next. — Did you ever behold as lovely a
woman ? "

M She is very beautiful, no doubt," he said.

" I wonder who she can be ? "

" Why, in the name of all that is angelic, don't you know
who she is ? ' Not to know her argues yourself unknown.'
She is the celebrated Madame Lalande — the beauty of the

1 68 THE SPECTACLES.

day par excellence, and the talk of the whole town. Im-
mensely wealthy too — a widow — and a great match — has
just arrived from Paris."

" Do you know her ? "

" Yes — I have the honor."

" Will you introduce me ? "

" Assuredly — with the greatest pleasure ; when shall it
be?"

" To-morrow, at one, I will call upon you at B 's."

" Very good ; and now do hold your tongue, if you
can."

In this latter respect I was forced to take Talbot's ad-
vice ; for he remained obstinately deaf to every further
question or suggestion, and occupied himself exclusively
for the rest of the evening with what was transacting upon
the stage.

In the meantime I kept my eyes riveted on Madame
Lalande, and at length had the good fortune to obtain a
full front view of her face. It was exquisitely lovely :
this, of course, my heart had told me before, even had not
Talbot fully satisfied me upon the point — but still the un-
intelligible something disturbed me. I finally concluded
that my senses were impressed by a certain air of gravity,
sadness, or, still more properly, of weariness, which took
something from the youth and freshness of the counte-
nance, only to endow it with a seraphic tenderness and
majesty, and thus, of course, to my enthusiastic and ro-
mantic temperament, with an interest tenfold.

THE SPECTACLES. 1 69

While I thus feasted my eyes, I perceived, at last, to my
great trepidation, by an almost imperceptible start on the
part of the lady, that she had become suddenly aware of
the intensity of my gaze. Still, I was absolutely fasci-
nated, and could not withdraw it, even for an instant.
She turned aside her face, and again I saw only the chis-
elled contour of the back portion of the head. After
some minutes, as if urged by curiosity to see if I was still
looking, she gradually brought her face again around and
again encountered my burning gaze. Her large dark eyes
fell instantly, and a deep blush mantled her cheek. But
what was my astonishment at perceiving that she not only
did not a second time avert her head, but that she actu-
ally took from her girdle a double eye-glass — elevated it
— adjusted it — and then regarded me through it, intently
and deliberately, for the space of several minutes.

Had a thunderbolt fallen at my feet I could not have
been more thoroughly astounded — astounded only — not
offended or disgusted in the slightest degree ; although an
action so bold in any other woman would have been
likely to offend or disgust. But the whole thing was done
with so much quietude — so much nonchalence — so much
repose — with so evident an air of the highest breeding, in
short — that nothing of mere effrontery was perceptible,
and my sole sentiments were those of admiration and
surprise.

I observed that, upon her first elevation of the glass,
she had seemed satisfied with a momentary inspection of

I JO THE SPECTACLES.

my person, and was withdrawing the instrument, when, as
if struck by a second thought, she resumed it, and so con-
tinued to regard me with fixed attention for the space
of several minutes — for five minutes, at the very least, I
am sure.

This action, so remarkable in an American theatre, at-
tracted very general observation, and gave rise to an in-
definite movement, or buzz, among the audience, which
for a moment filled me with confusion, but produced no
visible effect upon the countenance of Madame Lalande.

Having satisfied her curiosity — if such it was — she
dropped the glass, and quietly gave her attention again to
the stage ; her profile now being turned toward myself, as
before. I continued to watch her unremittingly, although
I was fully conscious of my rudeness in so doing. Pres-
ently I saw the head slowly and slightly change its posi-
tion ; and soon I became convinced that the lady, while
pretending to look at the stage was, in fact, attentively
regarding myself. It is needless to say what effect this
conduct, on the part of so fascinating a woman, had upon
my excitable mind.

Having thus scrutinized me for perhaps a quarter of an
hour, the fair object of my passion addressed the gentle-
man who attended her, and, while she spoke, I saw dis-
tinctly, by the glances of both, that the conversation had
reference to myself.

Upon its conclusion, Madame Lalande again turned
toward the stage, and, for a few minutes, seemed absorbed

THE SPECTACLES. 171

in the performances. At the expiration of this period,
however, I was thrown into an extremity of agitation by-
seeing her unfold, for the second time, the eye-glass which
hung at her side, fully confront me as before, and, disre-
garding the renewed buzz of the audience, survey me,
from head to foot, with the same miraculous composure
which had previously so delighted and confounded my
soul.

This extraordinary behavior, by throwing me into a
perfect fever of excitement — into an absolute delirium of
love — served rather to embolden than to disconcert me.
In the mad intensity of my devotion, I forgot every thing
but the presence and the majestic loveliness of the vision
which confronted my gaze. Watching my opportunity,
when I thought the audience were fully engaged with the
opera, I at length caught the eyes of Madame Lalande,
and, upon the instant, made a slight but unmistakable
bow.

She blushed very deeply — then averted her eyes — then
slowly and cautiously looked around, apparently to see if
my rash action had been noticed — then leaned over tow-
ard the gentleman who sat by her side.

I now felt a burning sense of the impropriety I had
committed, and expected nothing less than instant ex-
posure ; while a vision of pistols upon the morrow floated
rapidly and uncomfortably through my brain. I was
greatly and immediately relieved, however, when I saw
the lady merely hand the gentleman a play-bill, without

IJ2 THE SPECTACLES.

speaking ; but the reader may form some feeble concep-
tion of my astonishment — of myprofound amazement —
my delirious bewilderment of heart and soul — when, in-
stantly afterward, having again glanced furtively around,
she allowed her bright eyes to set fully and steadily upon
my own, and then, with a faint smile, disclosing a bright
line of her pearly teeth, made two distinct, pointed, and
unequivocal affirmative inclinations of the head.

It is useless, of course, to dwell upon my joy — upon my
transport — upon my illimitable ecstasy of heart. If ever
man was mad with excess of happiness, it was myself at
that moment. I loved. This was my first love — so I felt
it to be. It was love supreme — indescribable. It was
" love at first sight ; " and at first sight, too, it had been
appreciated and returned.

Yes, returned. How and why should I doubt it for an
instant. What other construction could I possibly put
upon such conduct, on the part of a lady so beautiful — so
wealthy — evidently so accomplished — of so high breeding
— of so lofty a position in society — in every regard so en-
tirely respectable as I felt assured was Madame Lalande?
Yes, she loved me — she returned the enthusiasm of my
love, with an enthusiasm as blind — as uncompromising —
as uncalculating — as abandoned — and as utterly un-
bounded as my own ! These delicious fancies and reflec-
tions, however, were now interrupted by the falling of the
drop-curtain. The audience arose; and the usual tumult
immediately supervened. Quitting Talbot abruptly, I

THE SPECTACLES. 1 73

made every effort to force my way into closer proximity
with Madame Lalande. Having failed in this, on account
of the crowd, I at length gave up the chase, and bent my
steps homeward ; consoling myself for my disappointment
in not having been able to touch even the hem of her
robe, by the reflection that I should be introduced by
Talbot, in due form, upon the morrow.

This morrow at last came ; that is to say, a day finally
dawned upon a long and weary night of impatience ; and
then the hours until " one " were snail-paced, dreary, and
innumerable. But even Stamboul, it is said, shall have an
end, and there came an end to this long delay. The
clock struck. As the last echo ceased, I stepped into
B 's and inquired for Talbot.

" Out," said the footman — Talbot's own.

" Out ! " I replied, staggering back half a dozen paces
— " let me tell you, my fine fellow, that this thing is thor-
oughly impossible and impracticable ; Mr. Talbot is not
out. What do you mean ? "

" Nothing, sir ; only Mr. Talbot is not in. That 's all.

He rode over to S , immediately after breakfast,

and left word that he would not be in town again for a
week."

I stood petrified with horror and rage. I endeavored
to reply, but my tongue refused its office. At length I
turned on my heel, livid with wrath, and inwardly con-
signing the whole tribe of the Talbots to the innermost
regions of Erebus. It was evident that my considerate

174 THE SPECTACLES.

friend, il fanatico, had quite forgotten his appointment
with myself — had forgotten it as soon as it was made. At
no time was he a very scrupulous man of his word. There
was no help for it ; so smothering my vexation as well as
I could, I strolled moodily up the street, propound-
ing futile inquiries about Madame Lalande to every male
acquaintance I met. By report she was known, I found,
to all — to many by sight — but she had been in town only
a few weeks, and there were very few, therefore, who
claimed her personal acquaintance. These few, being
still comparatively strangers, could not, or would not, take
the liberty of introducing me through the formality of a
morning call. While I stood thus, in despair, conversing
with a trio of friends upon the all-absorbing subject of my
heart, it so happened that the subject itself passed by.

" As I live, there she is ! " cried one.

" Surprisingly beautiful ! " exclaimed a second.

" An angel upon earth ! " ejaculated a third.

I looked ; and in an open carriage which approached
us, passing slowly down the street, sat the enchanting
vision of the opera, accompanied by the younger lady
who had occupied a portion of her box.

" Her companion also wears remarkably well," said the
one of my trio who had spoken first.

" Astonishingly," said the second ; " still quite a bril-
liant air ; but art will do wonders. Upon my word, she
looks better than she did at Paris five years ago. A
beautiful woman still ; — don't you think so, Froissart ? — -
Simpson, I mean."

THE SPECTACLES. 1 75

" Still ! " said I, " and why should n't she be ? But com-
pared with her friend she is as a rushlight to the evening
star — a glow-worm to Antares."

" Ha ! ha ! ha ! — why, Simpson, you have an astonish-
ing tact at making discoveries — original ones, I mean."
And here we separated, while one of the trio began hum-
ming a gay vaudeville, of which I caught only the lines —

Ninon, Ninon, Ninon a bas —
A bas Ninon De L' Enclos !

During this little scene, however, one thing had served
greatly to console me, although it fed the passion by
which I was consumed. As the carriage of Madame
Laland rolled by our group, I had observed that she
recognized me ; and more than this, she had blessed me,
by the most seraphic of all imaginable smiles, with no
equivocal mark of the recognition.

As for an introduction, I was obliged to abandon all
hope of it, until such time as Talbot should think proper
to return from the country. In the meantime I persever-
ingly frequented every reputable place of public amuse-
ment ; and, at length, at the theatre, where I first saw
her, I had the supreme bliss of meeting her, and of ex-
changing glances with her once again. This did not
occur, however, until the lapse of a fortnight. Every
day, in the interim, I had inquired for Talbot at his hotel,
and every day had been thrown into a spasm of wrath by
the everlasting " Not come home yet " of his footman.

Upon the evening in question, therefore, I was in a

176 THE SPECTACLES.

condition little short of madness. Madame Lalande, I
had been told, was a Parisian — had lately arrived from
Paris — might she not suddenly return? — return before
Talbot came back — and might she not be thus lost to me
forever ? The thought was too terrible to bear. Since
my future happiness was at issue, I resolved to act with
a manly decision. In a word, upon the breaking up of
the play, I traced the lady to her residence, noted the
address, and the next morning sent her a full and elabo-
rate letter, in which I poured out my whole heart.

I spoke boldly, freely — in a word, I spoke with passion.
I concealed nothing — nothing even of my weakness. I
alluded to the romantic circumstances of our first meet-
ing— even to the glances which had passed between us.
I went so far as to say that I felt assured of her love ;
while I offered this assurance, and my own intensity of
devotion, as two excuses for my otherwise unpardonable
conduct. As a third, I spoke of my fear that she might
quit the city before I could have the opportunity of a
formal introduction. I concluded the most wildly en-
thusiastic epistle ever penned, with a frank declaration of
my worldly circumstances — of my affluence — and with an
offer of my heart and of my hand.

In an agony of expectation I awaited the reply. After
what seemed the lapse of a century it came.

Yes, actually came. Romantic as all this may appear, I
really received a letter from Madame Lalande — the beauti-
ful, the wealthy, the idolized Madame Lalande. Her eyes

THE SPECTACLES. 1 77

— her magnificent eyes, had not belied her noble heart.
Like a true Frenchwoman, as she was, she had obeyed
the frank dictates of her reason — the generous impulses of
her nature — despising the conventional pruderies of the
world. She had not scorned my proposals. She had not
sheltered herself in silence. She had not returned my
letter unopened. She had even sent me, in reply, one
penned by her own exquisite fingers. It ran thus :

" Monsieur Simpson vill pardonne me for not compose de
butefulle tong of his contree so veil as might. It is only de
late dat I am arrive, and not yet ave de opportunite for to — •
1' £tudier.

" Vid dis apologie for the maniere, I vill now say dat, helas!
— Monsieur Simpson ave guess but de too true. Need I say
de more ? Helas ! am I not ready speak de too moshe ?

" Eugenie Lalande."

This noble-spirited note I kissed a million times, and
committed, no doubt, on its account, a thousand other
extravagances that have now escaped my memory. Still
Talbot would not return. Alas! could he have formed
even the vaguest idea of the suffering his absence had oc-
casioned his friend, would not his sympathizing nature
have flown immediately to my relief ? Still, however, he
came not. I wrote. He replied. He was detained by
urgent business — but would shortly return. He begged
me not to be impatient — to moderate my transports — to
read soothing books — to drink nothing stronger than Hock

178 THE SPECTACLES.

— and to bring the consolations of philosophy to my* aid.
The fool ! if he could not come himself, why, in the name
of every thing rational, could he not have enclosed me a
letter of presentation ? I wrote him again, entreating him
to forward one forthwith. My letter was returned by
that footman, with the following endorsement in pencil.
The scoundrel had joined his master in the country :

" Left S yesterday, for parts unknown — did not say

where — or when be back — so thought best to return letter,
knowing your handwriting, and as how you is always, more or
less, in a hurry. Yours sincerely, Stubbs."

After this, it is needless to say, that I devoted to the
infernal deities both master and valet : — but there was
little use in anger, and no consolation at all in complaint.

But I had yet a resource left, in my constitutional au-
dacity. Hitherto it had served me well, and I now re-
solved to make it avail me to the end. Besides, after the
correspondence which had passed between us, what act of
mere informality could I commit, within bounds, that
ought to be regarded as indecorous by Madame Lalande ?
Since the affair of the letter, I had been in the habit of
watching her house, and thus discovered that, about twi-
light, it was her custom to promenade, attended only by
a negro in livery, in a public square overlooked by her
windows. Here, amid the luxuriant and shadowing
groves, in the gray gloom of a sweet midsummer evening,
I observed my opportunity and accosted her.

THE SPECTACLES. IJg

The better to deceive the servant in attendance, I did
this with the assured air of an old and familiar acquaint-
ance. With a presence of mind truly Parisian, she took
the cue at once, and, to greet me, held out the most be-
witchingly little of hands. The valet at once fell into the
rear ; and now, with hearts full to overflowing, we dis-
coursed long and unreservedly of our love.

As Madame Lalande spoke English even less fluently
than she wrote it, our conversation was necessarily in
French. In this sweet tongue, so adapted to passion, I
gave loose to the impetuous enthusiasm of my nature, and,
with all the eloquence I could command, besought her to
consent to an immediate marriage.

At this impatience she smiled. She urged the old
story of decorum — that bug-bear which deters so many
from bliss until the opportunity for bliss has forever gone
by. I had most imprudently made it known among my
friends, she observed, that I desired her acquaintance —
thus that I did not possess it — thus, again, there was no
possibility of concealing the date of our first knowledge
of each other. And then she adverted, with a blush, to
the extreme recency of this date. To wed immediately
would be improper — would be indecorous — would be outrt.
All this she said with a charming air of naivety which en-
raptured while it grieved and convinced me. She went
even so far as to accuse me, laughingly, of rashness — of
imprudence. She bade me remember that I really even
knew not who she was — what were her prospects, her con-

l8o THE SPECTACLES.

nections, her standing in society. She begged me, but
with a sigh, to reconsider my proposal, and termed my
love an infatuation — a will o' the wisp — a fancy or fantasy
of the moment — a baseless and unstable creation rather
of the imagination than of the heart. These things she
uttered as the shadows of the sweet twilight gathered
darkly and more darkly around us — and then, with a gen-
tle pressure of her fairy-like hand, overthrew, in a single
sweet instant, all the argumentative fabric she had reared.

I replied as best I could — as only a true lover can. I
spoke at length, and perseveringly of my devotion, of my
passion — of her exceeding beauty, and of my own enthu-
siastic admiration. In conclusion, I dwelt, with a con-
vincing energy, upon the perils that encompass the course
of love — tnat course of true love that never did run
smooth, — and thus deduced the manifest danger of render-
ing that course unnecessarily long.

This latter argument seemed finally to soften the rigor
of her determination. She relented ; but there was yet
an obstacle, she said, which she felt assured I had not
properly considered. This was a delicate point — for a
woman to urge, especially so ; in mentioning it, she saw
that she must make a sacrifice of her feelings ; still, for
me, every sacrifice should be made. She alluded to the
topic of age. Was I aware — was I fully aware of the dis-
crepancy between us ? That the age of the husband
should surpass by a few years — even by fifteen or twenty
— the age of the wife, was regarded by the world as ad-

THE SPECTACLES. l8l

missible, and, indeed, as even proper; but she had always
entertained the belief that the years of the wife should
never exceed in number those of the husband. A dis-
crepancy of this unnatural kind gave rise, too frequently,
alas ! to a life of unhappiness. Now she was aware that
my own age did not exceed two and twenty ; and I, on
the contrary, perhaps, was not aware that the years of
my Eugenie extended very considerably beyond that sum.

About all this there was a nobility of soul — a dignity
of candor — which delighted — which enchanted me —
which eternally riveted my chains. I could scarcely
restrain the excessive transport which possessed me.

" My sweetest Eugenie," I cried, " what is all this
about which you are discoursing? Your years surpass in
some measure my own. But what then ? The customs
of. the world are so many conventional follies. To those
who love as ourselves, in what respect differs a year from
an hour? I am twenty-two, you say; granted: indeed,
you may as well call me, at once, twenty-three. Now
you yourself, my dearest Eugenie, can have numbered no
more than — can have numbered no more than — no more
than — than — than — than — "

Here I paused for an instant, in the expectation that
Madame Lalande would interrupt me by supplying her
true age. But a Frenchwoman is seldom direct, and has
always, by way of answer to an embarrassing query, some
little practical reply of her own. In the present instance,
Eugenie, who for a few moments past had seemed to be

1 82 THE SPECTACLES.

searching for something in her bosom, at length let fall
upon the grass a miniature, which I immediately picked
up and presented to her.

" Keep it ! " she said, with one of her most ravishing
smiles. " Keep it for my sake — for the sake of her whom
it too flatteringly represents. Besides, upon the back of
the trinket you may discover, perhaps, the very informa-
tion you seem to desire. It is now, to be sure, growing
rather dark — but you can examine it at your leisure in
the morning. In the meantime, you shall be my escort
home to-night. My friends are about holding a little
musical levie, I can promise you, too, some good singing.
We French are not nearly so punctilious as you Ameri-
cans, and I shall have no difficulty in smuggling you in,
in the character of an old acquaintance."

With this, she took my arm, and I attended her home.
The mansion was quite a fine one, and, I believe, fur-
nished in good taste. Of this latter point, however, I am
scarcely qualified to judge; for it was just dark as we
arrived ; and in American mansions of the better sort
lights seldom, during the heat of summer, make their
appearance at this, the most pleasant period of the day.
In about an hour after my arrival, to be sure, a single
shaded solar lamp was lit in the principal drawing-room ;
and this apartment, I could thus see, was arranged with
unusual good taste and even splendor; but two other
rooms of the suite, and in which the company chiefly
assembled, remained, during the whole evening, in a very

THE SPECTACLES. 1 83

agreeable shadow. This is a well-conceived custom, giv-
ing the party at least a choice of light or shade, and one
which our friends over the water could not do better than
immediately adopt.

The evening thus spent was unquestionably the most
delicious of my life. Madame Lalande had not overrated
the musical abilities of her friends ; and the singing I
here heard I had never heard excelled in any private
circle out of Vienna. The instrumental performers were
many and of superior talents. The vocalists were chiefly
ladies, and no individual sang less than well. At length,
upon a peremptory call for " Madame Lalande," she arose
at once, without affectation or demur, from the chaise
longue upon which she had sat by my side, and, accom-
panied by one or two gentlemen and her female friend of
the opera, repaired to the piano in the main drawing-
room. I would have escorted her myself, but felt that,
under the circumstances of my introduction to the house,
I had better remain unobserved where I was. I was thus
deprived of the pleasure of seeing, although not of hear-
ing, her sing.

The impression she produced upon the company seemed
I electrical — but the effect upon myself was something even
more. I know not how adequately to describe it. It
arose in part, no doubt, from the sentiment of love with
which I was imbued ; but chiefly from my conviction of
the extreme sensibility of the singer. It is beyond the
reach of art to endow either air or recitative with more

1 84 THE SPECTACLES.

impassioned expression than was hers. Her utterance of
the romance in Otello — the tone with which she gave the
words " Sul mio sasso," in the Capuletti — is ringing in my
memory yet. Her lower tones were absolutely miraculous.
Her voice embraced three complete octaves, extending
from the contralto D to the D upper soprano, and, though
sufficiently powerful to have filled the San Carlos, exe-
cuted, with the minutest precision, every difficulty of
vocal composition — ascending and descending scales,
cadences, or fiorituri. In the finale of the Sonnambula,
she brought about a most remarkable effect at the words :

Ah ! non guinge uman pensiero
Al contento ond 'io son piena.

Here, in imitation of Malibran, she modified the original
phrase of Bellini, so as to let her voice descend to the
tenor G, when, by a rapid transition, she struck the G
above the treble stave, springing over an interval of two
octaves.

Upon rising from the piano after these miracles of
vocal execution, she resumed her seat by my side ; when
I expressed to her, in terms of the deepest enthusiasm,
my delight at her performance. Of my surprise I said
nothing, and yet was I most unfeignedly surprised ; for a
certain feebleness, or rather a certain tremulous indecision
of voice in ordinary conversation, had prepared me to
anticipate that, in singing, she would not acquit herself
with any remarkable ability.

Our conversation was now long, earnest, uninterrupted,

THE SPECTACLES. 1 85

and totally unreserved. She made me relate many of the
earlier passages of my life, and listened with breathless
attention to every word of the narrative. I concealed
nothing — felt that I had a right to conceal nothing — from
her confiding affection. Encouraged by her candor upon
the delicate point of her age, I entered, with perfect frank-
ness, not only into a detail of my many minor vices, but
made full confession of those moral and even of those
physical infirmities, the disclosure of which, in demanding
so much higher a degree of courage, is so much surer an
evidence of love. I touched upon my college indiscretions
— upon my extravagances — upon my carousals — upon my
debts — upon my flirtations. I even went so far as to speak
of a slightly hectic cough with which, at one time, I had
been troubled — of a chronic rheumatism — of a twinge of
hereditary gout — and, in conclusion, of the disagreeable
and inconvenient, but hitherto carefully concealed, weak-
ness of my eyes.

" Upon this latter point," said Madame Lalande,
laughingly, "you have been surely injudicious in coming
to confession ; for, without the confession, I take it for
granted that no one would have accused you of the crime.
By the by," she continued, " have you any recollection — "
and here I fancied that a blush, even through the gloom
of the apartment, became distinctly visible upon her
cheek — " have you any recollection, mon cher ami, of this
little ocular assistant which now depends from my neck?"

As she spoke she twirled in her fingers the identical

1 86 THE SPECTACLES.

double eye-glass, which had so overwhelmed me with con-
fusion at the opera.

" Full well — alas ! do I remember it," I exclaimed,
pressing passionately the delicate hand which offered the
glasses for my inspection. They formed a complex and
magnificent toy, richly chased and filigreed, and gleaming
with jewels which, even in the deficient light, I could not
help perceiving were of high value.

" Eh bien ! mon ami" she resumed with a certain
empressment of manner that rather surprised me — "Eh
bien ! mon ami, you have earnestly besought of me a favor
which you have been pleased to denominate priceless.
You have demanded of me my hand upon the morrow.
Should I yield to your entreaties — and, I may add, to the
pleadings of my own bosom — would I not be entitled to
demand of you a very — a very little boon in return?"

" Name it ! " I exclaimed with an energy that had
nearly drawn upon us the observation of the company,
and restrained by their presence alone from throwing
myself impetuously at her feet. " Name it, my beloved,
my Eugenie, my own ! — name it ! — but, alas ! it is already
yielded ere named."

" You shall conquer, then, mon ami" said she, " for the
sake of the Eugenie whom you love, this little weakness
which you have at last confessed — this weakness more
moral than physical — and which, let me assure you,
is so unbecoming the nobility of your real nature — so in-
consistent with the candor of your usual character — and

THE SPECTACLES, 1 87

which, if permitted further control, will assuredly involve
you, sooner or later, in some very disagreeable scrape.
You shall conquer, for my sake, this affectation which
leads you, as you yourself acknowledge, to the tacit
or implied denial of your infirmity of vision. For,
this infirmity you virtually deny, in refusing to employ
the customary means for its relief. You will understand
me to say, then, that I wish you to wear spectacles : — ah,
hush ! — you have already consented to wear them,/*??' my
sake. You shall accept the little toy which I now hold in
my hand, and which, though admirable as an aid to vision,
is really of no very immense value as a gem. You perceive
that, by a trifling modification thus — or thus — it can
be adapted to the eyes in the form of spectacles, or worn
in the waistcoat pocket as an eye-glass. It is in the former
mode, however, and habitually, that you have already con-
sented to wear it for my sake."

This request — must I confess it ? — confused me in
no little degree. But the condition with which it was
coupled rendered hesitation, of course, a matter altogether
out of the question.

" It is done ! " I cried, with all the enthusiasm that I
could muster at the moment. " It is done — it is most
cheerfully agreed. I sacrifice every feeling for your sake.
To-night I wear this dear eye-glass, as an eye-glass, and
upon my heart ; but with the earliest dawn of that morn-
ing which gives me the pleasure of calling you wife,
I will place it upon my — upon my nose, — and there wear

1 88 THE SPECTACLES,

it ever afterward, in the less romantic, and less fashion-
able, but certainly in the more serviceable, form which
you desire."

Our conversation now turned upon the details of our
arrangements for the morrow. Talbot, I learned from
my betrothed, had just arrived in town. I was to see him
at once, and procure a carriage. The soirte would scarcely
break up before two ; and by this hour the vehicle was to
be at the door ; when, in the confusion occasioned by the
departure of the company, Madame L. could easily enter
it unobserved. We were then to call at the house of
a clergyman who would be in waiting ; there be married,
drop Talbot, and proceed on a short tour to the East;
leaving the fashionable world at home to make whatever
comments upon the matter it thought best.

Having planned all this, I immediately took leave, and
went in search of Talbot, but, on the way, I could not re-
frain from stepping into a hotel, for the purpose of inspect-
ing the miniature ; and this I did by the powerful aid of
the glasses. The countenance was a surpassingly beautiful
one ! Those large luminous eyes ! — that proud Grecian
nose ! — those dark luxuriant curls ! — " Ah ! " said I,
exultingly to myself, " this is indeed the speaking image
of my beloved ! " I turned the reverse, and discovered
the words — " Eugenie Lalande — aged twenty-seven years
and seven months."

I found Talbot at home, and proceeded at once to
acquaint him with my good fortune. He professed exces-

THE SPECTACLES. 1 89

sive astonishment, of course, but congratulated me most
cordially, and proffered every assistance in his power. In
a word, we carried out our arrangement to the letter ; and,
at two in the morning, just ten minutes after the cere-
mony, I found myself in a close carriage with Madame
Lalande — with Mrs. Simpson, I should say — and driving
at a great rate out of town, in a direction northeast
by north, half-north.

It had been determined for us by Talbot, that, as
we were to be up all night, we should make our first stop

at C , a village about twenty miles from the city, and

there get an early breakfast and some repose, before pro-
ceeding upon our route. At four precisely, therefore, the
carriage drew up at the door of the principal inn. I
handed my adored wife out, and ordered breakfast forth-
with. In the meantime we were shown into a small
parlor, and sat down.

It was now nearly if not altogether daylight ; and, as I
gazed, enraptured, at the angel by my side, the singular
idea came, all at once, into my head, that this was really
the very first moment since my acquaintance with the cele-
brated loveliness of Madame Lalande, that I had enjoyed
a near inspection of that loveliness by daylight at all.

" And now, mon ami" said she, taking my hand, and so
interrupting this train of reflection, "and now, mon clier
ami, since we are indissolubly one — since I have yielded
to your passionate entreaties, and performed my portion
of our agreement — I presume you have not forgotten that

190 THE SPECTACLES,

you also have a little favor to bestow — a little promise
which it is your intention to keep. Ah ! let me see !
Let me remember ! Yes ; full easily do I call to mind
the precise words of the dear promise you made to
Eugenie last night. Listen! You spoke thus: 'It is
done ! — it is most cheerfully agreed ! I sacrifice every
feeling for your sake. To-night I wear this dear eye-glass
as an eye-glass, and upon my heart ; but with the earliest
dawn of that morning which gives me the privilege of
calling you wife, I will place it upon my — upon my
nose, — and there wear it ever afterward, in the less
romantic, and less fashionable, but certainly in the more
serviceable, form which you desire.' These were the exact
words, my beloved husband, were they not ? "

" They were," I said ; " you have an excellent memory ;
and assuredly, my beautiful Eugenie, there is no disposi-
tion on my part to evade the performance of the trivial
promise they imply. See ! Behold ! They are becom-
ing— rather — are they not ? " And here, having arranged
the glasses in the ordinary form of spectacles, I applied
them gingerly in their proper position; while Madame
Simpson, adjusting her cap, and folding her arms, sat bolt
upright in her chair, in a somewhat stiff and prim, and in-
deed, in a somewhat undignified position.

" Goodness gracious me ! " I exclaimed, almost at the
very instant that the rim of the spectacles had settled
upon my nose — " My ! goodness gracious me! — why what
can be the matter with these glasses ? and taking them

THE SPECTACLES. I9I

quickly off, I wiped them carefully with a silk handkerchief,
and adjusted them again.

But if, in the first instance, there had occurred some-
thing which occasioned me surprise, in the second,
this surprise became elevated into astonishment ; and this
astonishment was profound — was extreme — indeed I may
say it was horrific. What, in the name of every thing
hideous, did this mean ? Could I believe my eyes ? — could
I ? — that was the question. Was that — was that — was
that rouge f And were those — and were those — were
those wrinkles, upon the visage of Eugenie Lalande ?
And oh ! Jupiter, and every one of the gods and god-
desses, little and big ! — what — what — what — what had be-
come of her teeth ? I dashed the spectacles violently to
the ground, and, leaping to my feet, stood erect in the
middle of the floor, confronting Mrs. Simpson, with my
arms set a-kimbo, and grinning and foaming, but, at the
same time, utterly speechless with terror and with rage.

Now I have already said that Madame Eugenie La-
lande— that is to say, Simpson — spoke the English lan-
guage but very little better than she wrote it ; and for
this reason she very properly never attempted to speak it
upon ordinary occasions. But rage will carry a lady to
any extreme; and in the present case it carried Mrs.
Simpson to the very extraordinary extreme of attempting
to hold a conversation in a tongue that she did not alto-
gether understand.

" Veil, Monsieur," said she, after surveying me, in great

192 THE SPECTACLES.

apparent astonishment, for some moments — " Veil, Mon-
sieur ! — and vat den ? — vat de matter now ? Is it de dance
of de Saint Vitusse dat you ave? If not like me, vat for
vy buy de pig in de poke ? "

'•'You wretch ! " said I, catching my breath — "you —
you — you villainous old hag ! "

" Ag? — ole? — me not so ver ole, after all! me not one
single day more dan de eighty-doo."

" Eighty-two ! " I ejaculated, staggering to the wall —
" eighty-two hundred thousand baboons ! The miniature
said twenty-seven years and seven months ! "

" To be sure ! — dat is so ! — ver true ! but den de por-
traite has been take for dese fifty-five year. Ven I go
marry my segonde usbande, Monsieur Lalande, at dat time
I had de portraite take for my daughter by my first us-
bande, Monsieur Moissart!"

"Moissart!" said I.

"Yes, Moissart," said she, mimicking my pronunciation,
which, to speak the truth, was none of the best ; " and
vat den ? Vat you know about de Moissart ? "

" Nothing, you old fright ! — I know nothing about him
at all ; only I had an ancestor of that name, once upon a
time."

" Dat name ! and vat you ave for say to dat name ?
'T is ver goot name ; and so is Voissart — dat is ver goot
name too. My daughter, Mademoiselle Moissart, she
marry von Monsieur Voissart ; and de name is both ver
respectaable name."

THE SPECTACLES. 1 93

" Moissart ? " I exclaimed, " and Voissart ! why what is
it you mean ? "

" Vat I mean ? — I mean Moissart and Voissart ; and for
de matter of dat, I mean Croissart and Froissart, too, if I
only tink proper to mean it. My daughter's daughter,
Mademoiselle Voissart, she marry von Monsieur Croissart,
and den agin, my daughter's grande daughter, Mademoi-
selle Croissart, she marry von Monsieur Froissart ; and
I suppose you say dat dat is not von ver respectaable
name."

"Froissart!" said I, beginning to faint, "why surely
you don't say Moissart, and Voissart, and Croissart, and
Froissart ? "

•* Yes," she replied, leaning fully back in her chair, and
stretching out her lower limbs at great length ; " yes,
Moissart, and Voissart, and Croissart, and Froissart. But
Monsieur Froissart, he vas von ver big vat you call fool —
he vas von ver great big donee like yourself — for he lef la
belle France for come to dis stupide Am£rique — and ven
he get here he vent and ave von ver stupide, von ver, ver
stupide sonn, so I hear, dough I not yet av ad de plaisir
to meet vid him — neither me nor my companion, de
Madame Stephanie Lalande. He is name de Napoleon
Bonaparte Froissart, and I suppose you say dat dat, too,
is not von ver respectaable name."

Either the length or the nature of this speech, had the
effect of working up Mrs. Simpson into a very extra-
ordinary passion indeed : and as she made an end of it,

194 THE SPECTACLES.

with great labor, she jumped up from her chair like
somebody bewitched, dropping upon the floor an entire
universe of bustle as she jumped. Once upon her feet,
she gnashed her gums, brandished her arms, rolled up her
sleeves, shook her fist in my face, and concluded the
performance by tearing the cap from her head, and with
it an immense wig of the most valuable and beautiful
black hair, the whole of which she dashed upon the
ground with a yell, and there trampled and danced a
fandango upon it, in an absolute ecstasy and agony of
rage.

Meantime I sank aghast into the chair which she had
vacated. " Moissart and Voissart ! " I repeated, thought-
fully, as she cut one of her pigeon-wings, and Croissart
and Froissart!" as she completed another — "Moissart
and Voissart and Croissart and Napoleon Bonaparte
Froissart ! — why, you ineffable old serpent, that 's me —
that 's me — d' ye hear? — that 's mt" — here I screamed at
the top of my voice — " that 's me-e-e ! I am Napoleon
Bonaparte Froissart ! and if I have n't married my great,
great, grandmother, I wish I may be everlastingly con-
founded ! "

Madame Eugenie Lalande, quasi Simpson — formerly
Moissart — was, in sober fact, my great, great, grand-
mother. In her youth she had been beautiful, and even
at eighty-two, retained the majestic height, the sculptural
contour of head, the fine eyes and the Grecian nose of her
girlhood. By the aid of these, of pearl-powder, of rouge,

THE SPECTACLES. 1 95

of false hair, false teeth, and false tournure, as well as of
the most skilful modistes of Paris, she contrived to hold a
respectable footing among the beauties en pen passees of
the French metropolis. In this respect, indeed, she
might have been regarded as little less than the equal
of the celebrated Ninon De L' Enclos.

She was immensely wealthy, and being left, for the
second time, a widow without children, she bethought
herself of my existence in America, and for the purpose
of making me her heir, paid a visit to the United
States, in company with a distant and exceedingly lovely
relative of her second husband's — a Madame Stephanie
Lalande.

At the opera, my great, great, grandmother's attention
was arrested by my notice ; and, upon surveying me
through her eye-glass, she was struck with a certain
family resemblance to herself. Thus interested, and
knowing that the heir she sought was actually in the
city, she made inquiries of her party respecting me.
The gentleman who attended her knew my person, and
told her who I was. The information thus obtained
induced her to renew her scrutiny ; and this scrutiny it
was which so emboldened me that I behaved in the
absurd manner already detailed. She returned my bow,
however, under the impression that, by some odd acci-
dent, I had discovered her identity. When, deceived by
my weakness of vision, and the arts of the toilet, in
respect to the age and charms of the strange lady, I

19^ THE SPECTACLES.

demanded so enthusiastically of Talbot who she was, he
concluded that I meant the younger beauty, as a matter
of course, and so informed me, with perfect truth, that
she was "the celebrated widow, Madame Lalande."

In the street, next morning, my great, great, grand-
mother encountered Talbot, an old Parisian acquaintance ;
and the conversation, very naturally, turned upon myself.
My deficiencies of vision were then explained; for these
were notorious, although I was entirely ignorant of their
notoriety ; and my good old relative discovered, much to
her chagrin that she had been deceived in supposing me
aware of her identity, and that I had been merely making
a fool of myself in making open love, in a theatre, to an
old woman unknown. By way of punishing me for this
imprudence, she concocted with Talbot a plot. He pur-
posely kept out of my way to avoid giving me the intro-
duction. My street inquiries about " the lovely widow,
Madame Lalande," were supposed to refer to the younger
lady, of course ; and thus the conversation with the three
gentlemen whom I encountered shortly after leaving Tal-
bot's hotel will be easily explained, as also their allusion
to Ninon De L' Enclos. I had no opportunity of seeing
Madame Lalande closely during daylight, and, at her
musical soiree, my silly weakness in refusing the aid of
glasses effectually prevented me from making a discovery
of her age. When " Madame Lalande " was called upon
to sing, the younger lady was intended ; and it was she
who arose to obey the call ; my great, great, grandmother,

THE SPECTACLES. 1 97

to further the deception, arising at the same moment and
accompanying her to the piano in the main drawing-room.
Had I decided upon escorting her thither, it had been
her design to suggest the propriety of my remaining
where I was ; but my own prudential views rendered this
unnecessary. The songs which I so much admired, and
which so confirmed my impression of the youth of my
mistress, were executed by Madame Stephanie Lalande.
The eye-glass was presented by way of adding a reproof
to the hoax — a sting to the epigram of the deception.
Its presentation afforded an opportunity for the lecture
upon affectation with which I was so especially edified.
It is almost superfluous to add that the glasses of the in-
strument, as worn by the old lady, had been exchanged
by her for a pair better adapted to my years. They
suited me, in fact, to a T.

The clergyman, who merely pretended to tie the fatal
knot, was a boon companion of Talbot's, and no priest.
He was an excellent " whip," however ; and having doffed
his cassock to put on a great-coat, he drove the hack
which conveyed the " happy couple " out of town. Tal-
bot took a seat at his side. The two scoundrels were
thus " in at the death," and through a half-open window
of the back parlor of the inn, amused themselves in grin-
ning at the denouement of the drama. I believe I shall be
forced to call them both out.

Nevertheless, I am not the husband of my great, great,
grandmother; and this is a reflection which affords me

198

THE SPECTACLES.

infinite relief; — but I am the husband of Madame La-
lande — of Madame Stephanie Lalande — with whom my
good old relative, besides making me her sole heir when
she dies — if she ever does — has been at the trouble of
concocting me a match. In conclusion : I am done for-
ever with billets doux> and am never to be met without
SPECTACLES.

THE DUC DE L' OMELETTE.

And stepped at once into a cooler clime. — Cozuper.

KEATS fell by a criticism. Who was it died of
" The Andromache ? " * Ignoble souls ! — De
L' Omelette perished of an ortolan. L histoire en est
breve. Assist me, Spirit of Apicius I

A golden cage bore the little winged wanderer,
enamored, melting, indolent, to the Chausse'e U Antin,
from its home in far Peru. From its queenly possessor
La Bellissima, to the Due De L' Omelette, six peers of
the empire conveyed the happy bird.

That night the Due was to sup alone. In the privacy
of his bureau he reclined languidly on that ottoman for
which he sacrificed his loyalty in outbidding his king, —
the notorious ottoman of Cadet.

He buries his face in the pillow. The clock strikes !
Unable to restrain his feelings, his Grace swallows an

* Montfleury. The author of the ' ' Parnasse Reforme " makes him speak in
Hades: — " L' homme done qui voudrait savoir ce dont je suis mort, qui V ne
demande pas si 7 fdt de fievre ou de podagre ou d' autre chose mais qui V en-
tende que ce fut de ' V Andromache. ,' "

199

200 THE DUG DE V OMELETTE.

olive. At this moment the door gently opens to the
sound of soft music, and lo ! the most delicate of birds is
before the most enamored of men ! But what inexpres-
sible dismay now overshadows the countenance of the
Due ? — " Horreur ! — cJiien ! — Baptist e / — /' oiseau ! ah, bon
Dieu / cet oiseau modest e que tu as deshabille de ses plumes,
et que tu as servi sans papier ! " It is superfluous to say
more : — the Due expired in a paroxysm of disgust. * * *

" Ha! ha! ha ! " said his Grace on the third day after
his decease.

" He ! he ! he ! " replied the Devil faintly, drawing him-
self up with an air of hauteur.

" Why, surely you are not serious," retorted De L' Ome-
lette. " I have sinned — e'est vrai — but, my good sir, con-
sider ! — you have no actual intention of putting such —
such — barbarous threats into execution."

" No what ? " said his majesty — " come, sir, strip ! "

" Strip, indeed ! very pretty i' faith ! no, sir, I shall not
strip. Who are you, pray, that I, Due De L' Omelette,
Prince de Foie-Gras, just come of age, author of the
* Mazurkiad,' and Member of the Academy, should divest
myself at your bidding of the sweetest pantaloons ever
made by Bourdon, the daintiest robe-de-chambre ever put
together by Rombert — to say nothing of the taking my
hair out of paper — not to mention the trouble I should
have in drawing off my gloves ? "

" Who am I ? — ah, true ! I am Baal-Zebub, Prince of
the Fly. I took thee, just now, from a rose-wood coffin

THE DUC DE V OMELETTE. 201

inlaid with ivory. Thou wast curiously scented, and
labelled as per invoice. Belial sent thee, — my Inspector
of Cemeteries. The pantaloons, which thou sayest were
made by Bourdon, are an excellent pair of linen drawers,
and thy robe-de-chambre is a shroud of no scanty dimen-
sions."

" Sir ! " replied the Due, " I am not to be insulted with
impunity ! — Sir ! I shall take the earliest opportunity of
avenging this insult ! — Sir ! you shall hear from me ! In
the meantime au revoir ! " — and the Due was bowing
himself out of the Satanic presence, when he was inter-
rupted and brought back by a gentleman in waiting.
Hereupon his Grace rubbed his eyes, yawned, shrugged
his shoulders, reflected. Having become satisfied of his
identity, he took a bird's-eye view of his whereabouts.

The apartment was superb. Even De L' Omelette
pronounced it bien comme il faut. It was not its length
nor its breadth, — but its height — ah, that was appalling !
— There was no ceiling — certainly none — but a dense
whirling mass of fiery-colored clouds. His Grace's brain
reeled as he glanced upward. From above, hung a
chain of an unknown blood-red metal — its upper end lost,
like the city of Boston, parmi les nues. From its nether
extremity swung a large cresset. The Due knew it to be
a ruby ; but from it there poured a light so intense, so
still, so terrible, Persia never worshipped such — Gheber
never imagined such — Mussulman never dreamed of such
when, drugged with opium, he has tottered to a bed of

202 THE DUC DE V OMELETTE.

poppies, his back to the flowers, and his face to the God
Apollo. The Due muttered a slight oath, decidedly ap-
probatory.

The corners of the room were rounded into niches.
Three of these were filled with statues of gigantic propor-
tions. Their beauty was Grecian, their deformity Egyp-
tian, their tout ensemble French. In the fourth niche the
statue was veiled ; it was not colossal. But then there
was a taper ankle, a sandalled foot. De L' Omelette
pressed his hand upon his heart, closed his eyes, raised
them, and caught his Satanic Majesty — in a blush.

But the paintings ! — Kupris ! Astarte ! Astoreth ! — a
thousand and the same ! And Rafaelle has beheld them !

Yes, Rafaelle has been here ; for did he not paint the ?

and was he not consequently damned ? The paintings !
— the paintings ! O luxury ! O love ! — who, gazing on
those forbidden beauties, shall have eyes for the dainty
devices of the golden frames that besprinkled, like stars,
the hyacinth and the porphyry walls ?

But the Due's heart is fainting within him. He is not,
however, as you suppose, dizzy with magnificence, nor
drunk with the ecstatic breath of those innumerable cen-
sers. C est vrai que de toutes ces choses il a pense' beaucoup
— mais ! The Due De L' Omelette is terror-stricken ;
for, through the lurid vista which a single uncurtained
window is affording, lo ! gleams the most ghastly of all
fires !

Le pauvre Due / He could not help imagining that the

THE DUC BE V OMELETTE. 203

glorious, the voluptuous, the never-dying melodies which
pervaded that hall, as they passed filtered and transmuted
through the alchemy of the enchanted window-panes,
were the wailings and the howlings of the hopeless and
the damned ! And there, too ! — there ! — upon the otto-
man ! — who could he be ? — he, the petitmaitre — no, the
Deity — who sat as if carved in marble, et qui sourit} with
his pale countenance, si amerement ?

Mais il faut agir — that is to say, a Frenchman never
faints outright. Besides, his Grace hated a scene — De
L' Omelette is himself again. There were some foils upon
a table — some points also. The Due had studied under

B ; il avait tue ses six homines. Now, then, il pent

s e'ehapper. He measures two points, and» with a grace
inimitable, offers his Majesty the choice. Horrent / his
Majesty does not fence !

Mais il joue ! — how happy a thought ! — but his Grace
had always an excellent memory. He had dipped in the
" Diable" of the Abbe Gualtier. Therein it is said "que
le Diable n ose pas refuser un jeu d* e'earte'."

But the chances — the chances ! True — desperate ; but
scarcely more desperate than the Due. Besides, was he
not in the secret ? — had he not skimmed over Pere Le
Brun ? — was he not a member of the Club Vingt-un ? " Si
fe perds" said he, "je serai deux fois perdu — I shall be
doubly damned — voila tout! (Here his Grace shrugged
his shoulders.) Sije gagney je reviendrai a mes ortolans —
que les cartes soient pre'pare'es I *'

204 THE DUC DE H OMELETTE.

His Grace was all care, all attention — his Majesty all
confidence. A spectator would have thought of Francis
and Charles. His Grace thought of his game. His Maj-
esty did not think ; he shuffled. The Due cut.

The cards are dealt. The trump is turned — it is — it is
— the king ! No — it was the queen. His Majesty cursed
her masculine habiliments. De \J Omelette placed his
hand upon his heart.

They play. The Due counts. The hand is out. His
Majesty counts heavily, smiles, and is taking wine. The
Due slips a card.

" C est a vous h faire" said his Majesty, cutting. His
Grace bowed, dealt, and arose from the table en presentant
le Roi.

His Majesty looked chagrined.

Had Alexander not been Alexander, he would have
been Diogenes ; and the Due assured his antagonist in
taking leave, " que s' il n eUt /// De L Omelette ilri aurait
point (T objection d' etre le Diable."

<^^^}M^^^

THE OBLONG BOX.

SOME years ago, I engaged passage from Charleston,
S. C, to the city of New York, in the fine packet-
ship " Independence," Captain Hardy. We were to sail
on the fifteenth of the month (June), weather permitting;
and, on the fourteenth, I went on board to arrange some
matters in my state-room.

I found that we were to have a great many passengers,
including a more than usual number of ladies. On the
list were several of my acquaintances ; and among other
names, I was rejoiced to see that of Mr. Cornelius Wyatt,
a young artist, for whom I entertained feelings of warm
friendship. He had been with me a fellow-student at

C University, where we were very much together.

He had the ordinary temperament of genius, and was a
compound of misanthropy, sensibility, and enthusiasm.
To these qualities he united the warmest and truest heart
which ever beat in a human bosom.

I observed that his name was carded upon three state-
rooms : and, upon again referring to the list of passen-
gers, I found that he had engaged passage for himself,

205

206 THE OBLONG BOX.

wife, and two sisters — his own. The state-rooms were
sufficiently roomy, and each had two berths, one above
the other. These berths, to be sure, were so exceedingly
narrow as to be insufficient for more than one person ;
still, I could not comprehend why there were three state-
rooms for these four persons. I was, just at that epoch, in
one of those moody frames of mind which make a man
abnormally inquisitive about trifles : and I confess, with
shame, that I busied myself in a variety of ill-bred and
preposterous conjectures about this matter of the super-
numerary state-room. It was no business of mine, to be
sure ; but with none the less pertinacity did I occupy myself
in attempts to resolve the enigma. At last I reached a con-
clusion which wrought in me great wonder why I had not
arrived at it before. " It is a servant, of course," I said ;
" what a fool I am, not sooner to have thought of so obvious
a solution ! " And then I again repaired to the list — but
here I saw distinctly that no servant was to come with the
party : although, in fact, it had been the original design
to bring one — for the words " and servant " had been first
written and then overscored. " Oh, extra baggage, to be
sure," I now said to myself — " something he wishes not
to be put in the hold — something to be kept under his
. own eye — ah, I have it — a painting or so — and this is
what he has been bargaining about with Nicolino, the
Italian Jew." This idea satisfied me, and I dismissed my
curiosity for the nonce.

Wyatt's two sisters I knew very well, and most amiable

THE OBLONG BOX. 20y

and clever girls they were. His wife he had newly mar-
ried, and I had never yet seen her. He had often talked
about her in my presence, however, and in his usual style
of enthusiasm. He described her as of surpassing beauty,
wit, and accomplishment. I was, therefore, quite anxious
to make her acquaintance.

On the day in which I visited the ship (the fourteenth),
Wyatt and party were also to visit it — so the captain in-
formed me, — and I waited on board an hour longer than
I had designed, in hope of being presented to the bride ;
but then an apology came. " Mrs. W. was a little indis-
posed, and would decline coming on board until to-mor-
row, at the hour of sailing."

The morrow having arrived, I was going from my hotel
to the wharf, when Captain Hardy met me and said that,
" owing to circumstances " (a stupid but convenient
phrase), " he rather thought the ' Independence ' would
not sail for a day or two, and that when all was ready, he
would send up and let me know." This I thought
strange, for there was a stiff southerly breeze ; but as
" the circumstances " were not forthcoming, although I
pumped for them with much perseverance, I had nothing
to do but to return home and digest my impatience at
leisure.

I did not receive the expected message from the cap-
tain for nearly a week. It came at length, however, and
I immediately went on board. The ship was crowded
with passengers, and every thing was in the bustle at-

208 THE OBLONG BOX.

tendant upon making sail. Wyatt's party arrived in
about ten minutes after myself. There were the two
sisters, the bride, and the artist — the latter in one of his
customary fits of moody misanthropy. I was too well
used to these, however, to pay them any special atten-
tion. He did not even introduce me to his wife ; — this
courtesy devolving, per force, upon his sister Marian — a
very sweet and intelligent girl, who, in a few hurried
words, made us acquainted.

Mrs. Wyatt had been closely veiled ; and when she
raised her veil, in acknowledging my bow, I confess that I
was very profoundly astonished. I should have been
much more so, however, had not long experience advised
me not to trust, with too implicit a reliance, the en-
thusiastic descriptions of my friend, the artist, when in-
dulging in comments upon the loveliness of woman.
When beauty was the theme, I well knew with what
facility he soared into the regions of the purely ideal.

The truth is, I could not help regarding Mrs. Wyatt as
a decidedly plain-looking woman. If not positively ugly,
she was not, I think, very far from it. She was dressed,
however, in exquisite taste — and then I had no doubt
that she had captivated my friend's heart by the more en-
during graces of the intellect and soul. She said very
few words, and passed at once into her state-room with
Mr. W.

My old inquisitiveness now returned. There was no
servant — that was was a settled point. I looked^there-

THE OBLONG BOX. 209

fore, for the extra baggage. After some delay, a cart ar-
rived at the wharf, with an oblong pine box, which was
every thing that seemed to be expected. Immediately
upon its arrival we made sail, and in a short time were
safely over the bar and standing out to sea.

The box in question was, as I say, oblong. It was
about six feet in length by two and a half in breadth ; — I
observed it attentively, and like to be precise. Now this
shape was peculiar ; and no sooner had I seen it, than
I took credit to myself for the accuracy of my guessing.
I had reached the conclusion, it will be remembered, that
the extra baggage of my friend, the artist, would prove to
be pictures, or at least a picture ; for I knew he had been
for several weeks in conference with Nicolino : — and now
here was a box, which, from its shape, could possibly con-
tain nothing in the world but a copy of Leonardo's -' Last
Supper" ; and a copy of this very " Last Supper," done
by Rubini the younger, at Florence, I had known, for
some time, to be in the possession of Nicolino. This
point, therefore, I considered as sufficiently settled. I
chuckled excessively when I thought of my acumen. It
was the first time I had ever known Wyatt to keep from
me any of his artistical secrets ; but here he evidently in-
tended to steal a march upon me, and smuggle a fine '
picture to New York, under my very nose; expecting me
to know nothing of the matter. I resolved to quiz him
well, now and hereafter.

One thing, however, annoyed me not a little. The box

210 THE OBLONG BOX.

did not go into the extra state-room. It was deposited in
Wyatt's own ; and there, too, it remained, occupying
very nearly the whole of the floor — no doubt to the
exceeding discomfort of the artist and his wife ; — this the
more especially as the tar. or paint with which it was
lettered in sprawling capitals, emitted a strong, disagree-
able, and, to my fancy, a peculiarly disgusting odor. On
the lid were painted the words — "Mrs. Adelaide Curtis,
Albany, New York. Charge of Cornelius Wyatt, Esq.
This side up. To be handled with care."

Now, I was aware that Mrs. Adelaide Curtis, of Albany,
was the artist's wife's mother ; — but then I looked upon
the whole address as a mystification, intended especially
for myself. I made up my mind, of course, that the box
and contents would never get farther north than the stu-
dio of my misanthropic friend, in Chambers Street, New
York.

For the first three or four days we had fine weather, al-
though the wind was dead ahead ; having chopped round
to the northward, immediately upon our losing sight
of the coast. The passengers were, consequently, in high
spirits and disposed to be social. I must except, however,
Wyatt and his sisters, who behaved stiffly, and, I could
not help thinking, uncourteously to the rest of the party.
Wyatt's conduct I did not so much regard. He was
gloomy, even beyond his usual habit — in fact he was
morose — but in him I was prepared for eccentricity. For
the sisters, however, I could make no excuse. They

THE OBLONG BOX. 211

secluded themselves in their state-rooms during the
greater part of the passage, and absolutely refused,
although I repeatedly urged them, to hold communi-
cation with any person on board.

Mrs. Wyatt herself was far more agreeable. That is to
say, she was chatty ; and to be chatty is no slight recom-
mendation at sea. She became excessively intimate with
most of the ladies ; and, to my profound astonishment,
evinced no equivocal disposition to coquet with the men.
She amused us all very much. I say "amused" — and
scarcely know how to explain myself. The truth is, I
soon found that Mrs. W. was far oftener laughed at than
with. The gentlemen said little about her ; but the ladies,
in a little while, pronounced her " a good-hearted thing,
rather indifferent-looking, totally uneducated, and decid-
edly vulgar." The great wonder was, how Wyatt had
been entrapped into such a match, Wealth was the gen-
eral solution — but this I knew to be no solution at all ;
for Wyatt had told me that she neither brought him a
dollar nor had any expectations from any source what-
ever. " He had married," he said, " for love, and for
love only ; and his bride was far more than worthy of his
love." When I thought of these expressions, on the part
of my friend, I confess that I felt indescribably puzzled.
Could it be possible that he was taking leave of his senses?
What else could I think ? He, so refined, so intellectual,
so fastidious, with so exquisite a perception of the faulty,
and so keen an appreciation of the beautiful ! To be

212 THE OBLONG BOX.

sure, the lady seemed especially fond of him — particularly
so in his absence — when she made herself ridiculous by
frequent quotations of what had been said by her " be-
loved husband, Mr. Wyatt." The word " husband ■•
seemed forever — to use one of her own delicate expres-
sions— forever " on the tip of her tongue." In the mean-
time, it was observed by all on board, that he avoided her
in the most pointed manner, and, for the most part, shut
himself up alone in his state-room, where, in fact, he might
have been said to live altogether, leaving his wife at full
liberty to amuse herself as she thought best, in the public
society of the main cabin.

My conclusion, from what I saw and heard, was, that
the artist, by some unaccountable freak of fate, or perhaps
in some fit of enthusiastic and fanciful passion, had been
induced to unite himself with a person altogether beneath
him, and that the natural result, entire and speedy disgust
had ensued. I pitied him from the bottom of my heart
— but could not, for that reason, quite forgive his incom-
municativeness in the matter of the " Last Supper." For
this I resolved to have my revenge.

One day he came upon deck, and, taking his arm as had
been my wont, I sauntered with him backward and for-
ward. His gloom, however (which I considered quite
natural under the circumstances), seemed entirely un-
abated. He said little, and that moodily, and with evident
effort. I ventured a jest or two, and he made a sickening
attempt at a smile. Poor fellow ! — as I thought of his

THE OBLONG BOX. 213

wife, I wondered that he could have heart to put on even
the semblance of mirth. At last I ventured a home
thrust. I determined to commence a series of covert
insinuations, or inuendoes, about the oblong box — just to
let him perceive, gradually, that I was not altogether the
butt, or victim, of his little bit of pleasant mystification.
My first observation was by way of opening a masked
battery. I said something about the " peculiar shape of
that box" ; and, as I spoke the words, I smiled knowingly,
winked, and touched him gently with my forefinger in the
ribs.

The manner in which Wyatt received this harmless
pleasantry convinced me, at once, that he was mad. At
first he stared at me as if he found it impossible to com-
prehend the witticism of my remark ; but as its point
seemed slowly to make its way into his brain, his eyes, in
the same proportion, seemed protruding from their
sockets. Then he grew very red — then hideously pale —
then, as if highly amused with what I had insinuated, he
began a loud and boisterous laugh, which, to my astonish-
ment, he kept up, with gradually increasing vigor, for ten
minutes or more. In conclusion, he fell flat and heavily
upon the deck. When I ran to uplift him, to all appear-
ance he was dead.

I called assistance, and, with much difficulty, we brought
him to himself. Upon reviving he spoke incoherently for
some time. At length we bled him and put him to bed.
The next morning he was quite recovered, so far as re-

214 THE OBLONG BOX.

garded his mere bodily health. Of his mind I say nothing,
of course. I avoided him during the rest of the passage,
by advice of the captain, who seemed to coincide with me
altogether in my views of his insanity, but cautioned me
to say nothing on this head to any person on board.

Several circumstances occurred immediately after this
fit of Wyatt's, which contributed to heighten the curiosity
with which I was already possessed. Among other
things, this : I had been nervous — drank too much strong
green tea, and slept ill at night — in fact, for two nights I
could not be properly said to sleep at all. Now, my state-
room opened into the main cabin, or dining-room, as did
those of all the single men on board. Wyatt's three
rooms were in the after-cabin, which was separated from
the main one by a slight sliding door, never locked even
at night. As we were almost constantly on a wind, and
the breeze was not a little stiff, the ship heeled to leeward
very considerably ; and whenever her starboard side was
to leeward, the sliding door between the cabins slid open,
and so remained, nobody taking the trouble to get up and
shut it. But my berth was in such a position, that when
my own state-room door was open, as well as the sliding
door in question, (and my own door was always open on
account of the heat,) I could see into the after-cabin quite
distinctly, and just at that portion of it, too, where were
situated the state-rooms of Mr. Wyatt. Well, during two
nights (not consecutive) while I lay awake, I clearly saw
Mrs. W., about eleven o'clock upon each night, steal

THE OBLONG BOX. 215

cautiously from the state-room of Mr. W., and enter the
extra room, where she remained until daybreak, when she
was called by her husband and went back. That they
were virtually separated was clear. They had separate
apartments — no doubt in contemplation of a more perma-
nent divorce ; and here, after all, I thought was the mys-
tery of the extra state-room.

There was another circumstance, too, which interested
me much. During the two wakeful nights in question,
and immediately after the disappearance of Mrs. Wyatt
into the extra state-room, I was attracted by certain singu-
lar, cautious, subdued noises in that of her husband.
After listening to them for some time, with thoughtful
attention, I at length succeeded perfectly in translating
their import. They were sounds occasioned by the artist
in prying open the oblong box, by means of a chisel and
mallet — the latter being apparently muffled, or deadened,
by some soft woollen or cotton substance in which its
head was enveloped.

In this manner I fancied I could distinguish the precise
moment when he fairly disengaged the lid — also, that I
could determine when he removed it altogether, and when
he deposited it upon the lower berth in his room ; this
latter point I knew, for example, by certain slight taps
which the lid made in striking against the wooden edges
of the berth, as he endeavored to lay it down very gently
— there being no room for it on the floor. After this
there was a dead stillness, and I heard nothing more,

2l6 THE OBLONG BOX.

upon either occasion, until nearly daybreak ; unless, per-
haps, I may mention a low sobbing, or murmuring sound,
so very much suppressed as to be nearly inaudible — if,
indeed, the whole of this latter noise were not rather pro-
duced by my own imagination. I say it seemed to
resemble sobbing or sighing — but, of course, it could not
have been either. I rather think it was a ringing in my
own ears. Mr. Wyatt, no doubt, according to custom,
was merely giving the rein to one of his hobbies — indul-
ging in one of his fits of artistic enthusiasm. He had
opened his oblong box, in order to feast his eyes on the
pictorial treasure within. There was nothing in this, how-
ever, to make him sob. I repeat, therefore, that it must
have been simply a freak of my own fancy, distempered
by good Captain Hardy's green tea. Just before dawn,
on each of the two nights of which I speak, I distinctly
heard Mr. Wyatt replace the lid upon the oblong box,
and force the nails into their old places by means of the
muffled mallet. Having done this, he issued from his
state-room, fully dressed, and proceeded to call Mrs. W.
from hers.

We had been at sea seven days, and were now off Cape
Hatteras, when there came a tremendously heavy blow
from the southwest. We were, in a measure, prepared
for it, however, as the weather had been holding out
threats for some time. Every thing was made snug, alow
and aloft ; and as the wind steadily freshened, we lay to,
at length, under spanker and foretopsail, both double-
reefed.

THE OBLONG BOX. 21 7

In this trim we rode safely enough for forty- eight
hours — the ship proving herself an excellent sea-boat in
many respects, and shipping no water of any consequence.
At the end of this period, however, the gale had fresh-
ened into a hurricane, and our after-sail split into ribbons,
bringing us so much in the trough of the water that we
shipped several prodigious seas, one immediately after
the other. By this accident we lost three men overboard
with the caboose, and nearly the whole of the larboard
bulwarks. Scarcely had we recovered our senses, before
the foretopsail went into shreds, when we got up a storm
stay-sail, and with this did pretty well for some hours, the
ship heading the sea much more steadily than before.

The gale still held on, however, and we saw no signs of
its abating. The rigging was found to be ill-fitted, and
greatly strained ; and on the third day of the blow, about
five in the afternoon, our mizzen-mast, in a heavy lurch
to windward, went by the board. For an hour or more,
we tried in vain to get rid of it, on account of the pro-
digious rolling of the ship ; and, before we had succeeded,
the carpenter came aft and announced four feet water in
the hold. To add to our dilemma, we found the pumps
choked and nearly useless.

All was now confusion and despair — but an effort was
made to lighten the ship by throwing overboard as much
of her cargo as could be reached, and by cutting away the
two masts that remained. This we at last accomplished
— but we were still unable to do any thing at the pumps :
and, in the meantime, the leak gained on us very fast.

218 THE OBLONG BOX.

At sundown, the gale had sensibly diminished in vio-
lence, and, as the sea went down with it, we still enter-
tained faint hopes of saving ourselves in the boats. At
eight P. M., the clouds broke away to windward, and we
had the advantage of a full moon — a piece of good fortune
which served wonderfully to cheer our drooping spirits.

After incredible labor we succeeded, at length, in getting
the long-boat over the side without material accident,
and into this we crowded the whole of the crew and
most of the passengers. This party made off imme-
diately, and, after undergoing much suffering, finally ar-
rived, in safety, at Ocracoke Inlet, on the third day after
the wreck.

Fourteen passengers, with the captain, remained on
board, resolving to trust their fortunes to the jolly-boat
at the stern. We lowered it without difficulty, although
it was only by a miracle that we prevented it from
swamping as it touched the water. It contained, when
afloat, the captain and his wife, Mr. Wyatt and party, a
Mexican officer, wife, four children, and myself, with a
negro valet.

We had no room, of course, for any thing except a few
positively necessary instruments, some provisions> and the
clothes upon our backs. No one had thought of even at-
tempting to save any thing more. What must have been
the astonishment of all, then, when, having proceeded a
few fathoms from the ship, Mr. Wyatt stood up in the
stern-sheets, and coolly demanded of Captain Hardy that

THE OBLONG BOX. 219

the boat should be put back for the purpose of taking in
his oblong box !

" Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the captain, somewhat
sternly, "you will capsize us if you do not sit quite still.
Our gunwale is almost in the water now."

" The box ! " vociferated Mr. Wyatt, still standing —
" the box, I say ! Captain Hardy, you cannot, you will not
refuse me. Its weight will be but a trifle — it is nothing —
mere nothing. By the mother who bore you — for the
love of Heaven — by your hope of salvation, I implore you
to put back for the box 1 "

The captain, for a moment, seemed touched by the
earnest appeal of the artist, but he regained his stern com-
posure, and merely said :

" Mr. Wyatt, you are mad. I cannot listen to you. Sit
down, I say, or you will swamp the boat. Stay — hold
him — seize him ! — he is about to spring overboard ! There
— I knew it — he is over ! "

As the captain said this, Mr. Wyatt, in fact, sprang
from the boat, and, as we were yet in the lee of the wreck,
succeeded, by almost superhuman exertion, in getting
hold of a rope which hung from the fore-chains. In an-
other moment he was on board, and rushing frantically
down into the cabin.

In the meantime, we had been swept astern of the ship,
and being quite out of her lee, were at the mercy of the
tremendous sea which was still running. We made a de-
termined effort to put back, but our little boat was like a

220 THE OBLONG BOX.

feather in the breath of the tempest. We saw at a glance
that the doom of the unfortunate artist was sealed.

As our distance from the wreck rapidly increased, the
madman (for as such only could we regard him) was seen
to emerge from the companion-way, up which by dint of
strength that appeared gigantic, he dragged, bodily, the
oblong box. While we gazed in the extremity of astonish-
ment, he passed, rapidly, several turns of a three-inch rope,
first around the box and then around his body. In an-
other instant both body and box were in the sea — disap-
pearing suddenly, at once and forever.

We lingered awhile sadly upon our oars, with our eyes
riveted upon the spot. At length we pulled away. The
silence remained unbroken for an hour. Finally, I hazarded
a remark.

" Did you observe, captain, how suddenly they sank ?
Was not that an exceedingly singular thing? I confess
that I entertained some feeble hope of his final deliver-
ance, when I saw him lash himself to the box, and com-
mit himself to the sea."

" They sank as a matter of course/' replied the captain,
" and that like a shot. They will soon rise again, how-
ever— but not till the salt melts."

u The salt ! " I ejaculated.

" Hush ! " said the captain, pointing to the wife and
sisters of the deceased. " We must talk of these things at
some more appropriate time."

THE OBLONG BOX. 221

We suffered much, and made a narrow escape; but
fortune befriended us, as well as our mates in the long-
boat. We landed, in fine, more dead than alive, after
four days of intense distress, upon the beach opposite
Roanoke Island. We remained here a week, were not ill-
treated by the wreckers, and at length obtained a passage
to New York.

About a month after the loss of the " Independence,"
I happened to meet Captain Hardy in Broadway. Our
conversation turned, naturally, upon the disaster, and
especially upon the sad fate, of poor Wyatt. I thus learned
the following particulars.

The artist had engaged passage for himself, wife, two
sisters and a servant. His wife was, indeed, as she had
been represented, a most lovely, and most accomplished
woman. On the morning of the fourteenth of June (the
day in which I first visited the ship), the lady suddenly
sickened and died. The young husband was frantic with
grief — but circumstances imperatively forbade the de-
ferring his voyage to New York. It was necessary to take
to her mother the corpse of his adored wife, and, on the
other hand, the universal prejudice which would prevent
his doing so openly was well known. Nine tenths of the
passengers would have abandoned the ship rather than
take passage with a dead body.

In this dilemma, Captain Hardy arranged that the
corpse, being first partially embalmed, and packed, with a
large quantity of salt, in a box of suitable dimensions,

222 THE OBLONG BOX.

should be conveyed on board as merchandise. Nothing
was to be said of the lady's decease ; and, as it was well
understood that Mr. Wyatt had engaged passage for his
wife, it became necessary that some person should person-
ate her during the voyage. This the deceased's lady's-
maid was easily prevailed on to do. The extra state-
room, originally engaged for this girl, during her mistress'
life, was now merely retained. In this state-room the
pseudo-wife slept, of course, every night. In the day-
time she performed, to the best of her ability, the part of
her mistress — whose person, it had been carefully ascer-
tained, was unknown to any of the passengers on board.
My own mistake arose, naturally enough, through too
careless, too inquisitive, and too impulsive a temperament.
But of late, it is a rare thing that I sleep soundly at night.
There is a countenance which haunts me, turn as I will.
There is an hysterical laugh which will forever ring within
my ears.

KING PEST.

A TALE CONTAINING AN ALLEGORY.

The gods do bear and will allow in kings
The things which they abhor in rascal routes.

— Buckhursi 's Tragedy of Ferrex and Porrex.

ABOUT twelve o'clock, one night in the month of
October, and during the chivalrous reign of the
third Edward, two seamen belonging to the crew of the
" Free and Easy," a trading schooner plying between
Sluys and the Thames, and then at anchor in that river,
were much astonished to find themselves seated in the
tap-room of an ale-house in the parish of St. Andrews,
London — which ale-house bore for sign the portraiture of
a "Jolly Tar."

The room, although ill-contrived, smoke-blackened, low-
pitched, and in every other respect agreeing with the gen-
eral character of such places at the period — was neverthe-
less, in the opinion of the grotesque groups scattered here
and there within it, sufficiently well adapted to its pur-
pose.

223

224 KING PEST.

Of these groups our two seamen formed, I think, the
most interesting, if not the most conspicuous.

The one who appeared to be the elder, and whom his
companion addressed by the characteristic appellation of
" Legs," was at the same time much the taller of the two.
He might have measured six feet and a half, and an habit-
ual stoop in the shoulders seemed to have been the neces-
sary consequence of an altitude so enormous. Superflui-
ties in height were, however, more than accounted for by
deficiencies in other respects. He was exceedingly thin ;
and might, as his associates asserted, have answered, when
drunk, for a pennant at the mast-head, or, when sober,
have served for a jib-boom. But these jests, and others
of a similar nature, had evidently produced, at no time,
any effect upon the cachinnatory muscles of the tar.
With high cheek-bones, a large hawk-nose, retreating
chin, fallen under-jaw, and huge protruding white eyes,
the expression of his countenance, although tinged with
a species of dogged indifference to matters and things in
general, was not the less utterly solemn and serious be-
yond all attempts at imitation or description.

The younger seaman was, in all outward appearance, the
converse of his companion. His stature could not have
exceeded four feet. A pair of stumpy bow-legs supported
his squat, unwieldy figure, while his unusually short and
thick arms, with no ordinary fists at their extremities,
swung off dangling from his sides like the fins of a sea-
turtle. Small eyes, of no particular color, twinkled far

KING PEST. 225

back in his head. His nose remained buried in the mass
of flesh which enveloped his round, full, and purple face :
and his thick upper-lip rested upon the still thicker one
beneath with an air of complacent self-satisfaction, much
heightened by the owner's habit of licking them at inter-
vals. He evidently regarded his tall shipmate with a feel-
ing half-wondrous, half-quizzical ; and stared up occasion-
ally in his face as the red setting sun stares up at the crags
of Ben Nevis.

Various and eventful, however, had been the peregrina-
tions of the worthy couple in and about the different tap-
houses of the neighborhood during the earlier hours of
the night. Funds even the most ample, are not always
everlasting : and it was with empty pockets our friends
had ventured upon the present hostelrie.

At the precise period, then, when this history properly
commences, Legs, and his fellow, Hugh Tarpaulin, sat,
each with both elbows resting upon the large oaken table
in the middle of the floor, and with a hand upon either
cheek. They were eying, from behind a huge flagon of
unpaid-for "humming-stuff," the portentous words, "No
Chalk," which to their indignation and astonishment were
scored over the door-way by means of that very mineral
whose presence they purported to deny. Not that the
gift of decyphering written characters — a gift among the
commonalty of that day considered little less cabalistical
than the art of inditing — could, in strict justice, have been
laid to the charge of either disciple of the sea ; but there

226 KING PEST.

was, to say the truth, a certain twist in the formation of
the letters — an indescribable lee-lurch about the whole —
which foreboded, in the opinion of both seamen, a long
run of dirty weather ; and determined them at once, in
the allegorical words of Legs himself, to "pump ship,
clew up all sail, and scud before the wind."

Having accordingly disposed of what remained of the
ale, and looped up the points of their short doublets, they
finally made a bolt for the street. Although Tarpaulin
rolled twice into the fireplace, mistaking it for the door,
yet their escape was at length happily effected — and half
after twelve o'clock found our heroes ripe for mischief,
and running for life down a dark alley in the direction of
St. Andrew's Stair, hotly pursued by the landlady of the
"Jolly Tar."

At the epoch of this eventful tale, and periodically, for
many years before and after, all England, but more espe-
cially the metropolis, resounded with the fearful cry of
" Plague ! " The city was in a great measure depopulated
— and in those horrible regions, in the vicinity of the
Thames, where, amid the dark, narrow, and filthy lanes
and alleys, the Demon of Disease was supposed to have
had his nativity, Awe, Terror, and Superstition were
alone to be found stalking abroad.

By authority of the king such districts were placed
under ban, and all persons forbidden, under pain of death,
to intrude upon their dismal solitude. Yet neither the
mandate of the monarch, nor the huge barriers erected at

KING PEST. 227

the entrances of the streets, nor the prospect of that
loathsome death which, with almost absolute certainty,
overwhelmed the wretch whom no peril could deter from
the adventure, prevented the unfurnished and untenanted
dwellings from being stripped, by the hand of nightly
rapine, of every article, such as iron, brass, or lead-work,
which could in any manner be turned to a profitable
account.

Above all, it was usually found, upon the annual winter
opening of the barriers, that locks, bolts, and secret cel-
lars had proved but slender protection to those rich stores
of wines and liquors which, in consideration of the risk
and trouble of removal, many of the numerous dealers
having shops in the neighborhood had consented to trust,
during the period of exile, to so insufficient a security.

But there were very few of the terror-stricken people
who attributed these doings to the agency of human
hands. Pest-spirits, plague-goblins, and fever-demons
were the popular imps of mischief; and tales so blood-
chilling were hourly told, that the whole mass of for-
bidden buildings was, at length, enveloped in terror as in
a shroud, and the plunderer himself was often scared
away by the horrors his own depredations had created ;
leaving the entire vast circuit of prohibited district to
gloom, silence, pestilence, and death.

It was by one of the terrific barriers already mentioned,
and which indicated the region beyond to be under the
Pest-ban, that, in scrambling down an alley, Legs and the

228 KING PEST.

worthy Hugh Tarpaulin found their progress suddenly
impeded. To return was out of the question, and no
time was to be lost, as their pursuers were close upon
their heels. With thorough-bred seamen to clamber up
the roughly fashioned plank-work was a trifle ; and, mad-
dened with the twofold excitement of exercise and liquor,
they leaped unhesitatingly down within the enclosure,
and holding on their drunken course with shouts and
yellings, were soon bewildered in its noisome and intri-
cate recesses.

Had they not, indeed, been intoxicated beyond moral
sense, their reeling footsteps must have been palsied by
the horrors of their situation. The air was cold and
misty. The paving-stones, loosened from their beds, lay
in wild disorder amid the tall, rank grass, which sprang
up around the feet and ankles. Fallen houses choked up
the streets. The most fetid and poisonous smells every-
where prevailed ; — and by the aid of that ghastly light
which, even at midnight, never fails to emanate from a
vapory and pestilential atmosphere, might be discerned
lying in the by-paths and alleys, or rotting in the win-
dowless habitations, the carcass of many a nocturnal
plunderer arrested by the hand of the plague in the very
perpetration of his robbery.

But it lay not in the power of images, or sensations, or
impediments such as these, to stay the course of men
who, naturally brave, and at that time especially, brimful
of courage and of " humming-stuff," would have reeled,

KING PEST. 229

as straight as their condition might. have permitted, un-
dauntedly into the very jaws of Death. Onward — still
onward stalked the grim Legs, making the desolate
solemnity echo and re-echo with yells like the terrific
war-whoop of the Indian ; and onward, still onward rolled
the dumpy Tarpaulin, hanging on to the doublet of his
more active companion, and far surpassing the latter's
most strenuous exertions in the way of vocal music, by
bull-roarings in basso, from the profundity of his sten-
torian lungs.

They had now evidently reached the stronghold of the
pestilence. Their way at every step or plunge grew more
noisome and more horrible — the paths more narrow and
more intricate. Huge stones and beams falling momently
from the decaying roofs above them, gave evidence, by
their sullen and heavy descent, of the vast height of the
surrounding houses ; and while actual exertion became
necessary to force a passage through frequent heaps of
rubbish, it was by no means seldom that the hand fell
upon a skeleton or rested upon a more fleshy corpse.

Suddenly, as the seamen stumbled against the entrance
of a tall and ghastly-looking building, a yell more than
usually shrill from the throat of the excited Legs, was,
replied to from within, in a rapid succession of wild,
laughter-like, and fiendish shrieks. Nothing daunted at
sounds which, of such a nature, at such a time, and in
such a place, might have curdled the very blood in hearts
less irrevocably on fire, the drunken couple rushed head-

230 KING PEST.

long against the door, burst it open, and staggered into
the midst of things with a volley of curses.

The room within which they found themselves proved
to be the shop of an undertaker ; but an open trap-door,
in a corner of the floor near the entrance, looked down
upon a long range of wine-cellars, whose depths the occa-
sional sound of' bursting bottles proclaimed to be well
stored with their appropriate contents. In the middle of
the room stood a table — in the centre of which again
arose a huge tub of what appeared to be punch. Bottles
of various wines and cordials, together with jugs, pitchers,
and flagons of every shape a«nd quality, were scattered
profusely upon the board. Around it, upon coffin-
tressels, was seated a company of six. This company
I will endeavor to delineate one by one.

Fronting the entrance, and elevated a little above
his companions, sat a personage who appeared to be
the president of the table. His stature was gaunt and
tall, and Legs was confounded to behold in him a
figure more emaciated than himself. His face was as
yellow as saffron — but no feature excepting one alone,
was sufficiently marked to merit a particular description.
This one consisted in a forehead so unusually and hid-
eously lofty, as to have the appearance of a bonnet or
crown of flesh superadded upon the natural head. His
mouth was puckered and dimpled into an expression of
ghastly affability, and his eyes, as indeed the eyes of all
at table, were glazed over with the fumes of intoxication.

KING PEST. 231

This gentleman was clothed from head to foot in a richly-
embroidered black silk-velvet pall, wrapped negligently
around his form after the fashion of a Spanish cloak.
His head was stuck full of sable hearse-plumes, which he
nodded to and fro with a jaunty and knowing air ; and, in
his right hand, he held a huge human thigh-bone, with
which he appeared to have been just knocking down some
member of the company for a song.

Opposite him, and with her back to the door, was a lady
of no whit the less extraordinary character. Although
quite as tall as the person just described, she had no right
to complain of his unnatural emaciation. She was evi-
dently in the last stage of a dropsy; and her figure
resembled nearly that of the huge puncheon of October
beer which stood, with the head driven in, close by her
side, in a corner of the chamber. Her face was exceed-
ingly round, red, and full ; and the same peculiarity, or
rather want of peculiarity, attached itself to her counte-
nance, which I before mentioned in the case of the presi-
dent— that is to say, only one feature of her face was
sufficiently distinguished to need a separate characteriza-
tion : indeed the acute Tarpaulin immediately observed
that the same remark might have applied to each indi-
vidual person of the party ; every one of whom seemed to
possess a monopoly of some particular portion of physi-
ognomy. With the lady in question this portion proved
to be the mouth. Commencing at the right ear, it swept
with a terrific chasm to the left — the short pendants

232 KING PEST.

which she wore in either auricle continually bobbing into
the aperture. She made, however, every exertion to keep
her mouth closed and look dignified, in a dress consisting
of a newly-starched and ironed shroud coming up close
under her chin, with a crimpled ruffle of cambric muslin.

At her right hand sat a diminutive young lady whom
she appeared to patronize. This delicate little creature,
in the trembling of her wasted fingers, in the livid hue of
her lips, and in the slight hectic spot which tinged her
otherwise leaden complexion, gave evident indications of
a galloping consumption. An air of extreme haut ton,
however, pervaded her whole appearance ; she wore in a
graceful and degagd manner, a large and beautiful wind-
ing-sheet of the finest India lawn ; her hair hung in ring-
lets over her neck ; a soft smile played about her mouth ;
but her nose, extremely long, thin, sinuous, flexible, and
pimpled, hung down far below her under-lip, and, in spite
of the delicate manner in which she now and then moved
it to one side or the other with her tongue, gave to her
countenance a somewhat equivocal expression.

Over against her, and upon the left of the dropsical
lady, was seated a little puffy, wheezing, and gouty old
man, whose cheeks reposed upon the shoulders of their
owner, like two huge bladders of Oporto wine. With his
arms folded, and with one bandaged leg deposited upon
the table, he seemed to think himself entitled to some
consideration. He evidently prided himself much upon
every inch of his personal appearance, but took more

KING PEST. 233

especial delight in calling attention to his gaudy-colored
surtout. This, to say the truth, must have cost him no
little money, and was made to fit him exceedingly well —
being fashioned from one of the curiously embroidered
silken covers appertaining to those glorious escutcheons
which, in England and elsewhere, are customarily hung up,
in some conspicuous place, upon the dwellings of departed
aristocracy.

Next to him, and at the right hand of the president,
was a gentleman in long white hose and cotton drawers.
His frame shook, in a ridiculous manner, with a fit of
what Tarpaulin called " the horrors.'' His jaws, which
had been newly shaved, were tightly tied up by a bandage
of muslin ; and his arms being fastened in a similar way
at the wrists, prevented him from helping himself too
freely to the liquors upon the table ; a precaution ren-
dered necessary, in the opinion of Legs, by the peculiarly
sottish and wine-bibbing cast of his visage. A pair of
prodigious ears, nevertheless, which it was no doubt
found impossible to confine, towered away into the at-
mosphere of the apartment, and were occasionally pricked
up in a spasm, at the sound of the drawing of a cork.

Fronting him, sixthly and lastly, was situated a singu-
larly stiff-looking personage, who, being afflicted with
paralysis, must, to speak seriously, have felt very ill at
ease in his unaccommodating habiliments. He was hab-
ited, somewhat uniquely, in a new and handsome mahog-
any coffin. Its top or head-piece pressed upon the skull

234 KING PEST.

of the wearer, and extended over it in the fashion of a
hood, giving to the entire face an air of indescribable
interest. Arm-holes had been cut in the sides for the
sake not more of elegance than of convenience ; but the
dress, nevertheless, prevented its proprietor from sitting
as erect as his associates ; and as he lay reclining against
his tressel, at an angle of forty-five degrees, a pair of huge
goggle eyes rolled up their awful whites toward the ceil-
ing in absolute amazement at their own enormity.

Before each of the party lay a portion of a skull, which
was used as a drinking-cup. Overhead was suspended a
human skeleton, by means of a rope tied round one of the
legs and fastened to a ring in the ceiling. The other
limb, confined by no such fetter, stuck off from the body
at right angles, causing the whole loose and rattling frame
to dangle and twirl about at the caprice of every occa-
sional puff of wind which found its way into the apart-
ment. In the cranium of this hideous thing lay a quantity
of ignited charcoal, which threw a fitful but vivid light
over the entire scene ; while coffins, and other wares ap-
pertaining to the shop of an undertaker, were piled high
up around the room, and against the windows, preventing
any ray from escaping into the street.

At sight of this extraordinary assembly, and of their
still more extraordinary paraphernalia, our two seamen
did not conduct themselves with that degree of decorum
which might have been expected. Legs, leaning against
the wall near which he happened to be standing, dropped

KING PEST. 235

his lower jaw still lower than usual, and spread open his
eyes to their fullest extent ; while Hugh Tarpaulin, stoop-
ing down so as to bring his nose upon a level with the
table, and spreading out a palm upon either knee, burst
into a long, loud, and obstreperous roar of very ill-timed
and immoderate laughter.

Without, however, taking offence at behavior so ex-
cessively rude, the tall president smiled very graciously
upon the intruders — nodded to them in a dignified man-
ner with his head of sable plumes — and, arising, took each
by an arm, and led him to a seat which some others of
the company had placed in the meantime for his accom-
modation. Legs to all this offered not the slightest re-
sistance, but sat down as he was directed ; while the
gallant Hugh, removing his coffin-tressel from its station
near the head of the table, to the vicinity of the little
consumptive lady in the winding-sheet, plumped down
by her side in high glee, and pouring out a skull of red
wine, quaffed it to their better acquaintance. But at this
presumption the stiff gentleman in the coffin seemed ex-
ceedingly nettled ; and serious consequences might have
ensued, had not the president, rapping upon the table
with his truncheon, diverted the attention of all present
to the following speech :

" It becomes our duty upon the present happy occa-
sion "

" Avast there ! " interrupted Legs, looking very serious,
" avast there a bit, I say, and tell us who the devil ye all

236 KING PEST.

are, and what business ye have here, rigged off like the
foul fiends, and swilling the snug blue ruin stowed away
for the winter by my honest ship-mate, Will Wimble, the
undertaker ! "

At this unpardonable piece of ill-breeding, all the
original company half-started to their feet, and uttered the
same rapid succession of wild fiendish shrieks which had
before caught the attention of the seamen. The presi-
dent, however, was the first to recover his composure,
and at length, turning to Legs with great dignity, re-
commenced:

" Most willingly will we gratify any reasonable curiosity
on the part of guests so illustrious, unbidden though they
be. Know then that in these dominions I am monarch,
and here rule with undivided empire under the title of
' King Pest the First.'

" This apartment, which you no doubt profanely sup-
pose to be the shop of Will Wimble the undertaker — a
man whom we know not, and whose plebeian appellation
has never before this night thwarted our royal ears — this
apartment, I say, is the Dais-Chamber of our Palace, de-
voted to the councils of our kingdom, and to other sacred
and lofty purposes.

" The noble lady who sits opposite is Queen Pest, our
Serene Consort. The other exalted personages whom you
behold are all of our family, and wear the insignia of the
blood royal under the respective titles of ' His Grace the
Arch Duke Pest-Iferous ' — ' His Grace the Duke Pest-

KING PEST. 237

Ilential ' — ' His Grace the Duke Tem-Pest ' — and ' Her
Serene Highness the Arch Duchess Ana-Pest.'

" As regards," continued he, " your demand of the
business upon which we sit here in council, wre might be
pardoned for replying that it concerns, and concerns alone,
our own private and regal interest, and is in no manner
important to any other than ourself. But in consideration
of those rights to which as guests and strangers you may
feel yourselves entitled, we will furthermore explain that
we are here this night, prepared by deep research and ac-
curate investigation, to examine, analyze, and thoroughly
determine the indefinable spirit — the incomprehensible
qualities and nature — of those inestimable treasures of the
palate, the wines, ales, and liqueurs of this goodly me-
tropolis : by so doing to advance not more our own de-
signs than the true welfare of that unearthly sovereign
whose reign is over us all, whose dominions are unlimited;
and whose name is ' Death.' "

" Whose name is Davy Jones ! " ejaculated Tarpaulin,
helping the lady by his side to a skull of liqueur, and
pouring out a second for himself.

" Profane varlet ! " said the president, now turning his
attention to the worthy Hugh, " profane and execrable
wretch ! — we have said, that in consideration of those
rights which, even in thy filthy person, we feel no inclina-
tion to violate, we have condescended to make reply to
thy rude and unreasonable inquiries. We nevertheless,
for your unhallowed intrusion upon our councils, believe

238 KING PEST.

it our duty to mulct thee and thy companion in each a
gallon of Black Strap — having imbibed which to the
prosperity of our kingdom — at a single draught — and
upon your bended knees^ye shall be forthwith free either
to proceed upon your way, or remain and be admitted to
the privileges of our table, according to your respective and
individual pleasures."

U It would be a matter of utter unpossibility," replied
Legs, whom the assumptions and dignity of King Pest the
First had evidently inspired with some feelings of respect,
and who arose and steadied himself by the table as he
spoke — " it would, please your majesty, be a matter of
utter unpossibility to stow away in my hold even one
fourth part of that same liquor which your majesty has
just mentioned. To say nothing of the stuffs placed on
board in the forenoon by way of ballast, and not to men-
tion the various ales and liqueurs shipped this evening at
various seaports, I have, at present, a full cargo of ' hum-
ming-stuff ' taken in and duly paid for at the sign of the
' Jolly Tar.' You will, therefore, please your majesty, be
so good as to take the will for the deed — for by no man-
ner of means either can I or will I swallow another drop
— least of all a drop of that villanous bilge-water that
answers to the name of ' Black Strap.' "

" Belay that ! " interrupted Tarpaulin, astonished not
more at the length of his companion's speech than at the
nature of his refusal — " Belay that, you lubber ! — and I
say, Legs, none of your palaver. My hull is still light, al-

KING PEST. 239

though I confess you yourself seem to be a little top-
heavy; and as far as the matter of your share of the
cargo, why rather than raise a squall I would find stowage-
room for it myself, but "

" This proceeding," interposed the president, " is by no
means in accordance with the terms of the mulct or sen-
tence, which is in its nature Median, and not to be altered
or recalled. The conditions we have imposed must be
fulfilled to the letter, and that without a moment's hesita-
tion— in failure of which fulfilment we decree that you do
here be tied neck and heels together, and duly drowned
as rebels in yon hogshead of October beer ! "

" A sentence ! — a sentence ! — a righteous and just sen-
tence ! — a glorious decree ! — a most worthy and upright,
and holy condemnation ! " shouted the Pest family alto-
gether. The king elevated his forehead into innumer-
able wrinkles ; the gouty little old man puffed like a pair
of bellows ; the lady of the winding-sheet waved her nose
to and fro ; the gentleman in the cotton drawers pricked
up his ears ; she of the shroud gasped like a dying fish ;
and he of the coffin looked stiff and rolled up his eyes.

" Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! " chuckled Tarpaulin, without
heeding the general excitation, " ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! — ugh !
ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! — ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! — I was saying," said
he, — " I was saying when Mr. King Pest poked in his mar-
linspike, that as for the matter of two or three gallons
more or less of Black Strap, it was a trifle to a tight sea-
boat like myself not overstowed — but when it comes to

240 KING PEST.

drinking the health of the Devil (whom God assoilzie) and
going down upon my marrow-bones to his ill-favored
majesty there, whom I know, as well as I know myself to
be a sinner, to be nobody in the whole world but Tim
Hurlygurly the stage-player ! — why ! it 's quite another
guess sort of a thing, and utterly and altogether past my
comprehension."

He was not allowed to finish this speech in tranquility.
At the name of Tim Hurlygurly the whole assembly
leaped from their seats.

" Treason ! " shouted his Majesty King Pest the First.

14 Treason ! " said the little man with the gout,

" Treason ! " screamed the Arch Duchess Ana-Pest.

'• Treason ! " muttered the gentleman with his jaws
tied up.

" Treason ! " growled he of the coffin.

" Treason ! treason ! " shrieked her majesty of the
mouth ; and, seizing by the hinder part of his breeches
the unfortunate Tarpaulin, who had just commenced pour-
ing out for himself a skull of liqueur, she lifted him high
into the air, and let him fall without ceremony into the
huge open puncheon of his beloved ale. Bobbing up and
down, for a few seconds, like an apple in a bowl of toddy,
he, at length, finally disappeared amid the whirlpool of
foam which, in the already effervescent liquor, his strug-
gles easily succeeded in creating.

Not tamely, however, did the tall seaman behold the
discomfiture of his companion. Jostling King Pest

KING PEST. 241

through the open trap, the valiant Legs slammed the
door down upon him with an oath, and strode toward the
centre of the room. Here tearing down the skeleton
which swung over the table, he laid it about him with so
much energy and good-will that, as the last glimpses of
light died away within the apartment, he succeeded in
knocking out the brains of the little gentleman with the
gout. Rushing then with all his force against the fatal
hogshead full of October ale and Hugh Tarpaulin, he
rolled it over and over in an instant. Out poured a del-
uge of liquor so fierce — so impetuous — so overwhelming
— that the room was flooded from wall to wall — the
loaded table was overturned — the tressels were thrown
upon their backs — the tub of punch into the fire-place —
and the ladies into hysterics. Piles of death-furniture
floundered about. Jugs, pitchers, and carboys mingled
promiscuously in the meUe, and wicker flagons encount-
ered desperately with bottles of junk. The man with
the horrors was drowned upon the spot — the little stiff
gentleman floated off in his coffin — and the victorious
Legs, seizing by the waist the fat lady in the shroud,
rushed out with her into the street, and made a bee-line
for the " Free and Easy," followed under easy sail by the
redoubtable Hugh Tarpaulin, who, having sneezed three
or four times, panted and puffed after him with the Arch
Duchess Ana-Pest.

THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK.

" A 70U hard-hearted, dunder-headed, obstinate, rusty,
X crusty, musty, fusty, old savage ! " said I, in
fancy, one afternoon, to my grand-uncle Rumgudgeon —
shaking my fist at him in imagination.

Only in imagination. The fact is, some trivial discrep-
ancy did exist, just then, between what I said and what I
had not the courage to say — between what I did and what
I had half a mind to do.

The old porpoise, as I opened the drawing-room door,
was sitting with his feet upon the mantel-piece, and a
bumper of port in his paw, making strenuous efforts to
accomplish the ditty.

Remplis ton verre vide !
Vide ton verre plein !

" My dear uncle," said I, closing the door gently, and

approaching him with the blandest of smiles, "you are

always so very kind and considerate, and have evinced

your benevolence in so many — so very many ways — that

— that I feel I have only to suggest this little point to

you once more to make sure of your full acquiescence."

242

THREE SUNDA YS IN A WEEK. 243

" Hem ! " said he, " good boy ! go on ! "

" I am sure, my dearest uncle [you confounded old
rascal !], that you have no design really, seriously, to op-
pose my union with Kate. This is merely a joke of yours,
I know — ha ! ha ! ha ! — how very pleasant you are at
times."

0 Ha ! ha ! ha ! " said he, " curse you ! yes ! "

" To be sure — of course ! I knew you were jesting.
Now, uncle, all that Kate and myself wish at present, is
that you would oblige us with your advice as — as regards
the time — you know, uncle — in short, when will it be most
convenient for yourself, that the wedding shall — shall —
come off, you know ? "

" Come off, you scoundrel ! — what do you mean by
that ? — Better wait till it goes on."

" Ha ! ha ! ha !— he ! he ! he !— hi ! hi ! hi !— ho ! ho !
ho ! — hu ! hu ! hu ! — oh, that 's good ! — oh, that 's
capital — such a wit ! But all we want just now, you
know, uncle, is that you would indicate the time pre-
cisely."

"Ah!— precisely?"

" Yes, uncle — that is, if it would be quite agreeable to
yourself."

"Would n't it answer, Bobby, if I were to leave it
at random — some time within a year or so, for example ? —
must I say precisely ? "

" If 'you please, uncle — precisely."

" Well, then, Bobby, my boy — you 're a fine fellow,

244 THREE SUNDA YS IN A WEEK.

are n't you ? — since you will have the exact time I '11 —
why I '11 oblige you for once."

" Dear uncle ! "

" Hush, sir ! " [drowning my voice] — I '11 oblige you for
once. You shall have my consent — and the plum, we
mus'n't forget the plum — let me see ! when shall it be ?
To-day *s Sunday — isn't it ? Well, then, you shall be mar-
ried precisely — precisely, now mind ! — when three Sundays
come together in a week ! Do you hear me, sir ! What
are you gaping at ? I say, you shall have Kate and her
plum when three Sundays come together in a week — but
not //// then — you young scapegrace — not till then, if I
die for it. You know me — / 'tn a man of my word — now
be off ! " Here he swallowed his bumper of port, while I
rushed from the room in despair.

A very " fine old English gentleman," was my grand-
uncle Rumgudgeon, but unlike him of the song, he
had his weak points. He was a little, pursy, pompous,
passionate semicircular somebody, with a red nose, a thick
skull, a long purse, and a strong sense of his own conse-
quence. With the best heart in the world, he contrived,
through a predominant whim of contradiction, to earn for
himself, among those who only knew him superficially,
the character of a curmudgeon. Like many excellent
people, he seemed possessed with a spirit of tantalization,
which might easily, at a casual glance, have been mistaken
for malevolence. To every request, a positive "No!"
was his immediate answer; but in the end — in the long,

THREE SUNDA YS IN A WEEK. 245

long end — there were exceedingly few requests which he
refused. Against all attacks upon his purse he made the
most sturdy defence ; but the amount extorted from him,
at last, was generally in direct ratio with the length of
the siege and the stubbornness of the resistance. In
charity no one gave more liberally or with a worse
grace.

For the fine arts, and especially for the belles-lettres, he
entertained a profound contempt. With this he had been
inspired by Casimir Perier, whose pert little query " A
quoi un poete est il bon f" he was in the habit of quoting,
with a very droll pronunciation, as the ne plus ultra of
logical wit. Thus my own inkling for the Muses had
excited his entire displeasure. He assured me one
day, when I asked him for a new copy of Horace, that
the translation of " Poet a nascitur non fit" was "a nasty
poet for nothing fit " — a remark which I took in high
dudgeon. His repugnance to " the humanities " had, also,
much increased of late, by an accidental bias in favor
of what he supposed to be natural science. Somebody
had accosted him in the street, mistaking him for no less
a personage than Doctor Dubble L. Dee, the lecturer
on quack physics. This set him off at a tangent ; and
just at the epoch of this story — for story it is getting to
be after all — my grand-uncle Rumgudgeon was accessible'
and pacific only upon points which happened to chime in
with the caprioles of the hobby he was riding. For
the rest, he laughed with his arms and legs, and his

246 THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK.

politics were stubborn and easily understood. He
thought, with Horsley, that " the people have nothing to
do with the laws but to obey them."

I had lived with the old gentleman all my life. My pa-
rents, in dying, had bequeathed me to him as a rich
legacy. I believe the old villain loved me as his own
child — nearly if not quite as well as he loved Kate — but it
was a dog's existence that he led me, after all. From my
first year until my fifth, he obliged me with very regular
floggings. From five to fifteen, he threatened me, hourly,
with the House of Correction. From fifteen to twenty,
not a day passed in which he did not promise to cut
me off with a shilling. I was a sad dog, it is true —
but then it was a part of my nature — a point of my faith.
In Kate, however, I had a firm friend, and I knew it.
She was a good girl, and told me very sweetly that I
might have her (plum and all) whenever I could badger
my grand-uncle Rumgudgeon, into the necessary consent.
Poor girl ! — she was barely fifteen, and without this con-
sent, her little amount in the funds was not come-at-able
until five immeasurable summers had " dragged their slow
length along." What, then, to do? At fifteen, or even
at twenty-one (for I had now passed my fifth olympiad)
five years in prospect are very much the same as five hun-
dred. In vain we besieged the old gentleman with
importunities. Here was a piece de resistance (as
Messieurs Ude and Carene would say) which suited his
perverse fancy to a T. It would have stirred the indigna-

THREE SUNDA YS IN A WEEK. 247

tion of Job himself, to see how much like an old mouser
he behaved to us two poor wretched little mice. In his
heart he wished for nothing more ardently than our union.
He had made up his mind to this all along. In fact,
he would have given ten thousand pounds from his own
pocket (Kate's plum was her own) if he could have in-
vented any thing like an excuse for complying with our
very natural wishes. But then we had been so imprudent
as to broach the subject ourselves. Not to oppose it
under such circumstances, I sincerely believe, was not
in his power.

I have said already that he had his weak points ; but,
in speaking of these, I must not be understood as re-
ferring to his obstinacy : which was one of his strong
points — " assurement ce ri etait pas set foible" When I
mention his weakness I have allusion to a bizarre old-
womanish superstition which beset him. He was great in
dreams, portents, et id genus omne of rigmarole. He was
excessively punctilious, too, upon small points of honor,
and, after his own fashion, was a man of his word, beyond
doubt. This was, in fact, one of his hobbies. The spirit
of his vows he made no scruple of setting at naught, but
the letter was a bond inviolable. Now it was this latter
peculiarity in his disposition, of which Kate's ingenuity
enabled us one fine day, not long after our interview in
the dining-room, to take a very unexpected advantage,
and, having thus, in the fashion of all modern bards and
orators, exhausted in prolegomena, all the time at my com-

248 THREE SUN DA YS IN A WEEK.

mand, and nearly all the room at my disposal, I will sum
up in a few words what constitutes the whole pith of the
story.

It happened then — so the Fates ordered it — that among
the naval acquaintances of my betrothed, were two gentle-
men who had just set foot upon the shores of England,
after a year's absence, each, in foreign travel. In com-
pany with these gentlemen, my cousin and I, precon-
certedly, paid uncle Rumgudgeon a visit on the afternoon
of Sunday, October the tenth, — just three weeks after the
memorable decision which had so cruelly defeated our
hopes. For about half an hour the conversation ran upon
ordinary topics ; but at last, we contrived, quite naturally,
to give it the following turn :

Capt. Pratt. " Well, I have been absent just one year.
Just one year to-day, as I live — let me see ! yes ! — this is
October the tenth. You remember, Mr. Rumgudgeon, I
called, this day year to bid you good-bye. And by the
way, it does seem something like a coincidence, does it not
— that our friend, Captain Smitherton, here, has been ab-
sent exactly a year also — a year to-day ! "

Smitherton. "Yes! just one year to a fraction. You
will remember, Mr. Rumgudgeon, that I called with Capt.
Pratol on this very day, last year, to pay my parting re-
spects."

Uncle. " Yes, yes, yes — I remember it very well — very
queer indeed ! Both of you gone just one year. A very
strange coincidence, indeed ! Just what Doctor Dubble

THREE SUNDA YS IN A WEEK. 249

L. Dee would denominate an extraordinary concurrence
of events. Doctor Dub — "

Kate. [Interrupting.] " To be sure, papa, it is some-
thing strange ; but then Captain Pratt and Captain
Smitherton did n't go altogether the same route, and that
makes a difference, you know."

Uncle. " I don't know any such thing, you huzzy !
How should I ? I think it only makes the matter more
remarkable, Doctor Dubble L. Dee — "

Kate. " Why, papa, Captain Pratt went round Cape
Horn, and Captain Smitherton doubled the Cape of Good
Hope."

Uncle. " Precisely ! — the one went east and the other
went west, you jade, and they both have gone quite round
the world. By the by, Doctor Dubble L. Dee — "

Myself. [Hurriedly.] " Captain Pratt, you must come
and spend the evening with us to-morrow — you and Smith-
erton— you can tell us all about your voyage, and we' 11
have a game of whist and — "

Pratt. " Whist, my dear fellow — you forget. To-mor-
row will be Sunday. Some other evening — "

Kate. " Oh, no, fie ! — Robert 's not quite so bad as that.
To-day 's Sunday."

Uncle. " To be sure — to be sure ! "

Pratt. " I beg both your pardons — but I can't be so
much mistaken. I know to-morrow 's Sunday, because — "

Smitherton. (Much surprised^) " What are you all
thinking about ? Was n't yesterday Sunday, I should like
to know?"

250 THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK.

AIL " Yesterday, indeed ! you are out ! "
Uncle. " To-day 's Sunday, I say — don't / know ? "
Pratt. " Oh no ! — to-morrow 's Sunday."
Smitherton. " You are all mad — every one of you. I
am as positive that yesterday was Sunday as I am that I
sit upon this chair."

Kate. {Jumping up eagerly?) " I see it — I see it all.
Papa, this is a judgment upon you, about — about you
know what. Let me alone, and I '11 explain it all in a
minute. It 's a very simple thing, indeed. Captain Smith-
erton says that yesterday was Sunday : so it was ; he is
right. Cousin Bobby, and uncle and I, say that to-day is
Sunday : so it is ; we are right. Captain Pratt maintains
that to-morrow will be Sunday : so it will ; he is right,
too. The fact is, we are all right, and thus three Sundays
have come together in a week."

Smitherton. {After a pause.) " By the by, Pratt, Kate
has us completely. What fools we two are ! Mr. Rum-
gudgeon, the matter stands thus : the earth, you know, is
twenty-four thousand miles in circumference. Now this
globe of the earth turns upon its own axis — revolves —
spins round — these twenty-four thousand miles of extent,
going from west to east, in precisely twenty-four hours.
Do you understand, Mr. Rumgudgeon? — "

Uncle. "To be sure — to be sure — Doctor Dub — ."
Smitlierton. (Drowning his voice?) " Well, sir ; that is
at the rate of one thousand miles per hour. Now, suppose
that I sail from this position a thousand miles east. Of

THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK. 2$ I

course I anticipate the rising of the sun here at London
by just one hour. I see the sun rise one hour before you
do. Proceeding, in the same direction, yet another thou-
sand miles, I anticipate the rising by two hours — another
thousand, and I anticipate it by three hours, and so on,
until I go entirely round the globe, and back to this spot,
when, having gone twenty-four thousand miles east, I an-
ticipate the rising of the London sun by no less than
twenty-four hours ; that is to say, I am a day in advance
of your time. Understand, eh ? "

Uncle. " But Dubble L. Dee—"

Smitherton. {Speaking very loud.) " Captain Pratt, on
the contrary, when he had sailed a thousand miles west of
this position, was an hour, and when he had sailed twenty-
four thousand miles west, was twenty-four hours, or one
day, behind the time at London. Thus, with me, yester-
day was Sunday — thus, with you, to-day is Sunday —
and thus, with Pratt, to-morrow will be Sunday. And
what is more, Mr. Rumgudgeon, it is positively clear that
we are all right ; for there can be no philosophical reason
assigned why the idea of one of us should have preference
over that of the other."

Uncle. " My eyes ! — well, Kate — well, Bobby ! — this is
a judgment upon me, as you say. But I am a man of my
word — mark that / you shall have her, boy, (plum and all,)
when you please. Done up, by Jove ! Three Sundays
all in a row ! I '11 go, and take Dubble L. Dee's opinion
upon that."

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

What o'clock is it ? — Old Saying,

EVERYBODY knows, in a general way, that the
finest place in the world is — or, alas, was — the
Dutch borough of Vondervotteimittiss. Yet, as it lies
some distance from any of the main roads, being in a
somewhat out-of-the-way situation, there are, perhaps, very
few of my readers who have ever paid it a visit. For the
benefit of those who have not, therefore, it will be only
proper that I should enter into some account of it. And
this is, indeed, the more necessary, as with the hope of
enlisting public sympathy in behalf of the inhabitants,
I design here to give a history of the calamitous events
which have so lately occurred within its limits. No one
who knows me will doubt that the duty thus self-im-
posed will be executed to the best of my ability, with
all that rigid impartiality, all that cautious examination
into facts, and diligent collation of authorities, which
should ever distinguish him who aspires to the title of
historian.

By the united aid of medals, manuscripts, and inscrip-

252

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY. 253

tions, I am enabled to say, positively, that the borough
of Vondervotteimittiss has existed, from its origin, in
precisely the same condition which it at present pre-
serves. Of the date of this origin, however, I grieve that
I can only speak with that species of indefinite definite-
ness which mathematicians are, at times, forced to put
up with in certain algebraic formulae. The date, I may
thus say, in regard to the remoteness of its antiquity,
cannot be less than any assignable quantity whatsoever.

Touching the derivation of the name Vondervottei-
mittiss, I confess myself, with sorrow, equally at fault.
Among a multitude of opinions upon this delicate point
— some acute, some learned, some sufficiently the reverse
— I am able to select nothing which ought to be con-
sidered satisfactory. Perhaps the idea of Grogswigg —
nearly coincident with that of Kroutaplenttey — is to be
cautiously preferred : — It runs : — Vondervotteimittis — Von*
der, lege Donder — Votteimittis, quasi und Bleitziz — Bleitziz
obsol : pro Blitzen" This derivation, to say the truth, is
still countenanced by some traces of the electric fluid
evident on the summit of the steeple of the House of
the Town-Council. I do not choose, however, to com-
mit myself on a theme of such importance, and must
refer the reader desirous of information, to the " Oratiun-
culoe de Rebus Prceter-Veteris" of Dundergutz. See, also,
Blunderbuzzard " De Derivationibus" pp. 27 to 5010,
Folio, Gothic edit., Red and Black character, Catch-word
and No Cypher; wherein consult, also, marginal notes

254 THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

in the autograph of Stuffundpuff, with the Sub-Com-
mentaries of Gruntundguzzell.

Notwithstanding the obscurity which thus envelops
the date of the foundation of Vondervotteimittiss, and
the derivation of its name, there can be no doubt, as I
said before, that it has always existed as we find it at
this epoch. The oldest man in the borough can re-
member not the slightest difference in the appearance
of any portion of it ; and, indeed, the very suggestion of
such a possibility is considered an insult. The site of
the village is in a perfectly circular valley, about a quarter
of a mile in circumference, and entirely surrounded by
gentle hills, over whose summit the people have never yet
ventured to pass. For this they assign the very good
reason that they do not believe there is any thing at all
on the other side.

Round the skirts of the valley (which is quite level, and
paved throughout with flat tiles), extends a continuous
row of sixty little houses. These, having their backs on
the hills, must look, of course, to the centre of the plain,
which is just sixty yards from the front door of each
dwelling. Every house has a small garden before it, with
a circular path, a sun-dial, and twenty-four cabbages. The
buildings themselves are so precisely alike, that one can
in no manner be distinguished from the other. Owing to
the vast antiquity, the style of architecture is somewhat
odd, but it is not for that reason the less strikingly pictur-
esque. They are fashioned of hard-burned little bricks,

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY. 2$$

red, with black ends, so that the walls look like a chess-
board upon a great scale. The gables are turned to the
front, and there are cornices, as big as all the rest of the
house, over the eaves and over the main doors. The
windows are narrow and deep, with very tiny panes
and a great deal of sash. On the roof is a vast quantity
of tiles with long curly ears. The wood-work, throughout,
is of a dark hue, and there is much carving about it, with
but a trifling variety of pattern ; for, time out of mind,
the carvers of Vondervotteimittiss have never been able
to carve more than two objects — a timepiece and a cab-
bage. But these they do exceedingly well, and inter-
sperse them, with singular ingenuity, wherever they find
room for the chisel.

The dwellings are as much alike inside as out, and the
furniture is all upon one plan. The floors are of square
tiles, the chairs and tables of black-looking wood with
thin crooked legs and puppy feet. The mantel-pieces are
wide and high, and have not only time-pieces and cab-
bages sculptured over the front, but a real time-piece,
which makes a prodigious ticking, on the top in the mid-
dle, with a flower-pot containing a cabbage standing on
each extremity by way of outrider. Between each cab-
bage and the time-piece, again, is a little China man hav-
ing a large stomach with a great round hole in it, through
which is seen the dial-plate of a watch.

The fireplaces are large and deep, with fierce crooked-
looking fire-dogs. There is constantly a rousing fire, and

256 THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

a huge pot over it, full of sauer-kraut and pork, to which
the good woman of the house is always busy in attend-
ing. She is a little fat old lady, with blue eyes and a red
face, and wears a huge cap like a sugar-loaf, ornamented
with purple and yellow ribbons. Her dress is of orange-
colored linsey-woolsey, made very full behind and very
short in the waist — and indeed very short in other re-
pects, not reaching below the middle of her leg. This is
somewhat thick, and so are her ankles, but she has a fine
pair of green stockings to cover them. Her shoes — of
pink leather — are fastened each with a bunch of yellow
ribbons puckered up in the shape of a cabbage. In her
left hand she has a little heavy Dutch watch ; in her right
she wields a ladle for the sauer-kraut and pork. By her
side there stands a fat tabby cat, with a gilt toy-repeater
tied to its tail, which " the boys " have there fastened by
way of a quiz.

The boys themselves are, all three of them, in the gar-
den attending the pig. They are each two feet in height.
They have three-cornered cocked hats, purple waistcoats
reaching down to their thighs, buckskin knee-breeches,
red woollen stockings, heavy shoes with big silver buckles,
and long surtout coats with large buttons of mother-of-
pearl. Each, too, has a pipe in his mouth, and a little
dumpy watch in his right hand. He takes a puff and a
look, and then a look and a puff. The pig — which is cor-
pulent and lazy — is occupied now in picking up the stray
leaves that fall from the cabbages, and now in giving a

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY. 2$?

kick behind at the gilt repeater, which the urchins have
also tied to his tail, in order to make him look as hand-
some as the cat.

Right at the front door, in a high-backed leather-
bottomed armed chair, with crooked legs and puppy feet
like the tables, is seated the old man of the house him-
self. He is an exceedingly puffy little old gentleman,
with big circular eyes and a huge double chin. His dress
resembles that of the boys — and I need say nothing fur-
ther about it. All the difference is, that his pipe is some-
what bigger than theirs, and he can make a greater smoke.
Like them, he has a watch, but he carries his watch in his
pocket. To say the truth, he has something of more im-
portance than a watch to attend to — and what that is, I
shall presently explain. He sits with his right leg upon
his left knee, wears a grave countenance, and always
keeps one of his eyes, at least, resolutely bent upon a cer-
tain remarkable object in the centre of the plain.

This object is situated in the steeple of the House of
the Town Council. The Town Council are all very little,
round, oily, intelligent men, with big saucer eyes and fat
double chins, and have their coats much longer and their
shoe-buckles much bigger than the ordinary inhabitants
of Vondervotteimittiss. Since my sojourn in the bor-
ough, they have had several special meetings, and have
adopted these three important resolutions : —

" That it is wrong to alter the good old course of
things : "

258 THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

" That there is nothing tolerable out of Vondervottei-
mittiss : " and —

" That we will stick by our clocks and our cabbages."

Above the session-room of the Council is the steeple,
and in the steeple is the belfry, where exists, and has ex-
isted time out of mind, the pride and wonder of the vil-
lage— the great clock of the borough of Vondervotteimit-
tiss. And this is the object to which the eyes of the old
gentlemen are turned who sit in the leather-bottomed arm-
chairs.

The great clock has seven faces — one in each of the
seven sides of the steeple — so that it can be readily seen
from all quarters. Its faces are large and white, and its
hands heavy and black. There is a belfry-man whose sole
duty is to attend to it ; but this duty is the most perfect
of sinecures — for the clock of Vondervotteimittiss was
never yet known to have any thing the matter with it.
Until lately, the bare supposition of such a thing was con-
sidered heretical. From the remotest period of antiquity
to which the archives have reference, the hours have been
regularly struck by the big bell. And, indeed, the case
was just the same with all the other clocks and watches in
the borough. Never was such a place for keeping the
true time. When the large clapper thought proper to say
" Twelve o'clock ! " all its obedient followers opened
their throats simultaneously, and responded like a very
echo. In short, the good burghers were fond of their
sauer-kraut, but then they were proud of their clocks.

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY. 259

All people who hold sinecure offices are held in more or
less respect, and as the belfry-man of Vondervotteimittiss
has the most perfect of sinecures, he is the most perfectly
respected of any man in the world. He is the chief dig-
nitary of the borough, and the very pigs look up to him
with a sentiment of reverence. His coat-tail is very far
longer — his pipe, his shoe-buckles, his eyes, and his
stomach, very far bigger — than those of any other old
gentleman in the village ; and as to his chin, it is not only
double, but triple.

I have thus painted the happy estate of Vondervottei-
mittiss : alas, that so fair a picture should ever experience
a reverse !

There has been long a saying among the wisest inhabi-
tants, that " no good can come from over the hills " ; and
it really seemed that the words had in them something of
the spirit of prophecy. It wanted five minutes of noon,
on the day before yesterday, when there appeared a very
odd-looking object on the summit of the ridge to the east-
ward. Such an occurrence, of course, attracted universal
attention, and every little old gentleman who sat in a
leather-bottomed arm-chair turned one of his eyes with a
stare of dismay upon the phenomenon, still keeping the
other upon the clock in the steeple.

By the time that it wanted only three minutes to noon,
the droll object in question was perceived to be a very
diminutive foreign-looking young man. He descended
the hills at a great rate, so that everybody* had soon

26o THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

a good look at him. He was really the most finicky
little personage that had ever been seen in Vondervottei-
mittiss. His countenance was of a dark snuff-color, and
he had a long hooked nose, pea eyes, a wide mouth, and
an excellent set of teeth, which latter he seemed anxious
of displaying, as he was grinning from ear to ear. What
with mustachios and whiskers, there was none of the rest
of his face to be seen. His head was uncovered, and his
hair neatly done up in papillotes. His dress was a tight-
fitting swallow-tailed black coat (from one of whose
pockets dangled a vast length of white handkerchief),
black kerseymere knee-breeches, black stockings, and
stumpy-looking pumps, with huge bunches of black satin
ribbon for bows. Under one arm he carried a huge
chapeau-de-bras, and under the other a fiddle nearly five
times as big as himself. In his left hand was a gold
snuff-box, from which, as he capered down the hill,
cutting all manner of fantastic steps, he took snuff inces-
santly with an air of the greatest possible self-satisfaction.
God bless me ! — here was a sight for the honest burghers
of Vondervotteimittiss !

To speak plainly, the fellow had, in spite of his grinning,
an audacious and sinister kind of face ; and as he curvet-
ted right into the village, the old stumpy appearance of
his pumps excited no little suspicion ; and many a burgher
who beheld him that day would have given a trifle for a
peep beneath the white cambric handkerchief which hung
so obtrusively from the pocket of his swallow-tailed coat.

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY. 26 1

But what mainly occasioned a righteous indignation was,
that the scoundrelly popinjay, while he cut a fandango
here, and a whirligig there, did not seem to have the re-
motest idea in the world of such a thing as keeping time
in his steps.

The good people of the borough had scarcely a chance,
however, to get their eyes thoroughly open, when, just as
it wanted half a minute of noon, the rascal bounced, as I
say, right into the midst of them ; gave a chassez here,
and a balancez there ; and then, after a pirouette and a
pas-de zephyr, pigeon-winged himself right up into the
belfry of the House of the Town Council, where the
wonder-stricken belfry-man sat smoking in a state of dig-
nity and dismay. But the little chap seized him at once
by the nose ; gave it a swing and a pull ; clapped the big
chape au-de-br as upon his head ; knocked it down over his
eyes and mouth ; and then, lifting up the big fiddle, beat
him with it so long and so soundly, that what with the
belfry-man being so fat, and the riddle being so hollow,
you would have sworn that there was a regiment of
double-bass drummers all beating the devil's tattoo up in
the belfry of the steeple of Vondervotteimittiss.

There is no knowing to what desperate act of ven-
geance this unprincipled attack might have aroused the
inhabitants, but for the important fact that it now wanted
only half a second of noon. The bell was about to strike,
and it was a matter of absolute and pre-eminent neces-
sity that everybody should look well at his watch. It

262 THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

was evident, however, that just at this moment the
fellow in the steeple was doing something that he had no
business to do with the clock. But as it now began to
strike, nobody had any time to attend to his manoeuvres,
for they had all to count the strokes of the bell as it
sounded.

" One ! " said the clock.

" Von ! " echoed every little old gentleman in every
leather-bottomed arm-chair in Vondervotteimittiss.
"Von!" said his watch also; "von!" said the watch
of his vrow ; and " von ! " said the watches of the boys,
and the little gilt repeaters on the tails of the cat and pig.

" Two ! " continued the big bell ; and

" Doo ! " repeated all the repeaters.

"Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine!
Ten ! " said the bell.

"Dree! Vour! Fibe ! Sax! Seben ! Aight ! Noin!
Den ! " answered the others.

" Eleven ! " said the big one.

" Eleben ! " assented the little ones.

"Twelve!" said the bell.

" Dvelf ! " they replied, perfectly satisfied, and dropping
their voices.

" Und dvelf it iss!" said all the little old gentlemen,
putting up their watches. But the big bell had not done
with them yet.

" Thirteeti / " said he.

" Der Teufel ! " gasped the little old gentlemen, turning

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY. 263

pale, dropping their pipes, and putting down all their
right legs from over their left knees.

" Der Teufel ! " groaned they, " Dirteen ! Dirteen ! ! —
Mein Gott, it is Dirteen o'clock ! ! "

Why attempt to describe the terrible scene which
ensued ? All Vondervotteimittiss flew at once into a
lamentable state of uproar.

" Vot is cum'd to mein pelly?" roared all the boys, —
" I Ve been ongry for dis hour ! "

" Vot is cum'd to mein kraut?" screamed all the vrows,
"It has been done to rags for dis hour ! "

"Vot is cum'd to mein pipe?" swore all the little old
gentlemen, " Donder and Blitzen ! it has been smoked
out for dis hour ! " — and they filled them up again in a
great rage, and, sinking back in their arm-chairs, puffed
away so fast and so fiercely that the whole valley was im-
mediately filled with impenetrable smoke.

Meantime the cabbages all turned very red in the face,
and it seemed as if old Nick himself had taken possession
of every thing in the shape of a time-piece. The clocks
carved upon the furniture took to dancing as if bewitched,
while those upon the mantel-pieces could scarcely contain
themselves for fury, and kept such a continual striking of
thirteen, and such a frisking and wriggling of their pen-
dulums as was really horrible to see. But, worse than
all, neither the cats nor the pigs could put up any longer
with the behavior of the little repeaters tied to their tails,
and resented it by scampering all over the place, scratch-

264 THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY.

ing and poking, and squeaking and screeching, and cater-
wauling and squalling, and flying into the faces, and run-
ning under the petticoats of the people, and creating
altogether the most abominable din and confusion which
it is possible for a reasonable person to conceive. And
to make matters still more distressing, the rascally little
scapegrace in the steeple was evidently exerting himself
to the utmost. Every now and then one might catch a
glimpse of the scoundrel through the smoke. There he
sat in the belfry upon the belfry-man, who was lying flat
upon his back. In his teeth the villain held the bell-rope,
which he kept jerking about with his head, raising such a
clatter that my ears ring again even to think of it. On
his lap lay the big fiddle, at which he was scraping, out of
all time and tune, with both hands, making a great show,
the nincompoop ! of playing " Judy O'Flannagan and
Paddy O'Rafferty."

Affairs being thus miserably situated, I left the place in
disgust, and now appeal for aid to all lovers of correct time
and fine kraut. Let us proceed in a body to the borough,
and restore the ancient order of things in Vondervottei-
mittis by ejecting that little fellow from the steeple.

LIONIZING

all people went

Upon their ten toes in wild wonderment.

— Bishop Hairs Satins.

I AM — that is to say, I was — a great man ; but I am
neither the author of Junius nor the man in the
mask ; for my name, I believe, is Robert Jones, and I was
born somewhere in the city of Fum-Fudge.

The first action of my life was the taking hold of my
nose with both hands. My mother saw this and called me
a genius — my father wept for joy and presented me with
a treatise on Nosology. This I mastered before I was
breeched.

I now began to feel my way in the science, and soon
came to understand that, provided a man had a nose
sufficiently conspicuous, he might, by merely following it,
arrive at a Lionship. But my attention was not confined
to theories alone. Every morning I gave my proboscis a
couple of pulls and swallowed a half dozen of drams.

When I came of age my father asked me, one day, if I
would step with him into his study.

265

266 LIONIZING.

" My son," said he, when we were seated, " what is the
chief end of your existence ? "

u My father/' I answered, "it is the study of Nosology."
"And what, Robert," he inquired, "is Nosology?"
" Sir," I said, " it is the science of Noses."
"And can you tell me," he demanded, "what is the
meaning of a nose ? "

" A nose, my father," I replied, greatly softened, " has
been variously defined by about a thousand different
authors." [Here I pulled out my watch.] " It is now
noon, or thereabouts — we shall have time enough to get
through with them all before midnight. To commence
then : — The nose, according to Bartholinus, is that protu-
berance— that bump — that excrescence — that "

"Will do, Robert," interrupted the good old gentle-
man. " I am thunderstruck at the extent of your infor-
mation— I am positively — upon my soul." [Here he
closed his eyes and placed his hand upon his heart.]
"Come here! " [Here he took me by the arm.] "Your
education may now be considered as finished — it is high
time you should scuffle for yourself — and you cannot do
a better thing than merely follow your nose — so — so —
so — " [Here he kicked me down stairs and out of the
door.] — " So get out of my house, and God bless you ! " .
As I felt within me the divine afflatus, I considered
this accident rather fortunate than otherwise. I resolved
to be guided by the paternal advice. I determined to
follow my nose. I gave it a pull or two upon the spot,
and wrote a pamphlet on Nosology forthwith.

LIONIZING, 267

All Fum-Fudge was in an uproar.

" Wonderful genius ! " said the Quarterly.

" Superb physiologist ! " said the Westminster.

" Clever fellow ! " said the Foreign.

" Fine writer ! " said the Edinburgh.

" Profound thinker ! " said the Dublin.

" Great man ! " said Bent ley.

" Divine soul ! " said Fraser.

" One of us ! " said Blackwood.

" Who can he be? " said Mrs. Bas-Bleu.

u What can he be ? " said big Miss Bas-Bleu.

" Where can he be ? " said little Miss Bas-Bleu. — But I
paid these people no attention whatever — I just stepped
into the shop of an artist.

The Duchess of Bless-my-Soul was sitting for her por-
trait ; the Marquis of So-and-So was holding the Duchess'
poodle ; the Earl of This-and-That was flirting with her
salts ; and his Royal Highness of Touch-me-Not was lean-
ing upon the back of her chair.

I approached the artist and turned up my nose.

" Oh, beautiful ! " sighed her Grace.

" Oh my ! " lisped the Marquis.

" Oh, shocking ! " groaned the Earl.

" Oh, abominable ! " growled his Royal Highness.

" What will you take for it ? " asked the artist.

" For his nose ! " shouted her Grace.

" A thousand pounds," said I, sitting down.

" A thousand pounds ? " inquired the artist, musingly.

268 LIONIZING.

" A thousand pounds," said I.

" Beautiful ! " said he, entranced.

" A thousand pounds," said I.

" Do you warrant it ? " he asked, turning the nose to
the light.

" I do," said I, blowing it well.

" Is it quite original ? " he inquired, touching it with
reverence.

" Humph i " said I, twisting it to one side.

" Has no copy been taken ? " he demanded, surveying
it through a microscope.

" None," said I, turning it up.

" Admirable ! " he ejaculated, thrown quite off his
guard by the beauty of the manoeuvre.

" A thousand pounds," said I.

" A thousand pounds ? " said he.

" Precisely," said I.

" A thousand pounds ? " said he.

" Just so," said I.

" You shall have them," said he. " What a piece of
virtu ! " So he drew me a check upon the spot, and took
a sketch of my nose. I engaged rooms in Jermyn street,
and sent her Majesty the ninety-ninth edition of the
" Nosology," with a portrait of the proboscis. — That sad
little rake, the Prince of Wales, invited me to dinner.

We were all lions and rccherche's.

There was a modern Platonist. He quoted Porphyry,
Iamblicus, Plotinus, Proclus, Hierocles, Maximus Tyrius,
and Syrianus.

LIONIZING. 269

There was a human-perfectibility man. He quoted
Turgot, Price, Priestley, Condorcet, De Stael, and the
"Ambitious Student in Ill-Health."

There was Sir Positive Paradox. He observed that all
fools were philosophers, and that all philosophers were
fools.

There was ^Estheticus Ethix. He spoke of fire, unity,
and atoms ; bi-part and pre-existent soul ; affinity and
discord ; primitive intelligence and homoomeria.

There was Theologos Theology. He talked of Euse-
bius and Arianus ; heresy and the Council of Nice ; Pusey-
ism and con-substantialism ; Homousios and Homou-
ioisios.

There was Fricassee from the Rocher de Cancale. He
mentioned Muriton of red tongue ; cauliflowers with
veloutd sauce ; veal a la St. Menehoult ; marinade a la St.
Florentin ; and orange jellies en mosa'tques.

There was Bibulus O'Bumper. He touched upon La-
tour and Markbriinnen ; upon Mosseux and Chambertin ;
upon Richbourg and St. George ; upon Haubrion, Leon-
ville, and Medoc ; upon Barac and Preignac ; upon Grave,
upon Sauterne, upon Lafitte, and upon St. Peray. He
shook his head at Clos de Vougeot, and told, with his
eyes shut, the difference between Sherry and Amontillado.

There was Signor Tintontintino from Florence. He
discoursed of Cimabue, Arpino, Carpaccio, and Argostino
— of the gloom of Caravaggio, of the amenity of Albano,
of the colors of Titian, of the frows of Rubens, and of the
waggeries of Jan Steen.

270 LIONIZING.

There was the President of the Fum-Fudge University.
He was of opinion that the moon was called Bendis in
Thrace, Bubastis in Egypt, Dian in Rome, and Artemis
in Greece.

There was a Grand Turk from Stamboul. He could
not help thinking that the angels were horses, cocks, and
bulls; that somebody in the sixth heaven had seventy
thousand heads ; and that the earth was supported by a
sky-blue cow with an incalculable number of green horns.

There was Delphinus Polyglott. He told us what had
become of the eighty-three lost tragedies of yEschylus ;
of the fifty-four orations of Isaeus ; of the three hundred
and ninety-one speeches of Lysias ; of the hundred and
eighty treatises of Theophrastus ; of the eighth book of
the conic sections of Apollonius ; of Pindar's hymns and
dithyrambics ; and of the five and forty tragedies of
Homer Junior.

There was Ferdinand Fitz Fossillus Feltspar. He in-
formed us all about internal fires and tertiary formations ;
about aeriforms, fluidiforms, and solidiforms ; about quartz
and marl ; about schist and schorl ; about gypsum and
trap ; about talc and calc ; about blende and horn-blende ;
about mica-slate and pudding-stone ; about cyanite and
lepidolite ; about haematite and tremolite ; about anti-
mony and calcedony ; about manganese and whatever you
please.

There was myself. I spoke of myself ; — of myself, of
myself, of myself ; — of Nosology, of my pamphlet, and of
myself. I turned up my nose, and I spoke of myself.

LIONIZING. 2?i

" Marvellous clever man ! " said the Prince.

"Superb!" said his guests; — and next morning her
Grace of Bless-my-Soul paid me a visit.

" Will you go to Almack's, pretty creature ? " she said,
tapping me under the chin.

" Upon honor," said I.

11 Nose and all ? " she asked.

" As I live," I replied.

" Here then is a card, my life. Shall I say you will
be there? "

" Dear Duchess, with all my heart."

u Pshaw, no ! — but with all your nose ? "

" Every bit of it, my love," said I : — so I gave it a twist
or two, and found myself at Almack's.

The rooms were crowded to suffocation.

" He is coming ! " said somebody on the staircase.

" He is coming ! " said somebody farther up.

" He is coming ! " said somebody farther still.

" He is come ! " exclaimed the Duchess. " He is come,
the little love ! " — and, seizing me firmly by both hands,
she kissed me thrice upon the nose.

A marked sensation immediately ensued.

" Diavolo ! " cried Count Capricornutti.

" Dios guarda /" muttered Don Stiletto.

" Mille tonnerres / " ejaculated the Prince de Grenouille.

" Tousand teafel ! " growled the Elector of Bludden-
nuff.

It was not to be borne. I grew angry. I turned short
upon Bluddennuff.

272 LIONIZING.

" Sir ! " said I to him, " you are a baboon."

" Sir/' he replied, after a pause, " Donner und Blitzeu ! "

This was all that could be desired. We exchanged
cards. At Chalk-Farm, the next morning, I shot off his
nose — and then called upon my friends.

" Bite ! " said the first.

" Fool ! " said the second.

" Dolt ! " said the third.

" Ass ! " said the fourth.

" Ninny ! " said the fifth.

" Noodle ! " said the sixth.

" Be off ! " said the seventh.

At all this I felt mortified, and so called upon my
father.

" Father," I asked, " what is the chief end of my ex-
istence ? "

" My son," he replied, " it is still the study of Nosology ;
but in hitting the Elector upon the nose you have over-
shot your mark. You have a fine nose, it is true ; but
then Bluddennuff has none. You are damned, and he has
become the hero of the day. I grant you that in Fum-
Fudge the greatness of a lion is in proportion to the size
of his proboscis — but, good heavens ! there is no compet-
ing with a lion who has no proboscis at all."

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NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

Upon my return to the United States a few months ago, after the extra-
ordinary series of adventure in the South Seas and elsewhere, of which an
account is given in the following pages, accident threw me into the society
of several gentlemen in Richmond, Va., who felt deep interest in all matters
relating to the regions I had visited, and who were constantly urging it
upon me, as a duty, to give my narrative to the public. I had several
reasons, however, for declining to do so, some of which were of a nature
altogether private, and concern no person but myself ; others not so much
so. One consideration which deterred me was, that having kept no journal
during a greater portion of the time in which I was absent, I feared I
should not be able to write, from mere memory, a statement so minute and
connected as to have the appearance of that truth it would really possess,
barring only the natural and unavoidable exaggeration to which all of us
are prone when detailing events which have had powerful influence in
exciting the imaginative faculties. Another reason was, that the incidents
to be narrated were of a nature so positively marvellous that, unsupported
as my assertions must necessarily be (except by the evidence of a single
individual, and he a half-breed Indian), I could only hope for belief among
my family, and those of my friends who have had reason, through life, to
put faith in my veracity — the probability being that the public at large
would regard what I should put forth as merely an impudent and ingenious
fiction. A distrust in my own abilities as a writer was, nevertheless, one
of the principal causes which prevented me from complying with the sug-
gestions of my advisers.

Among those gentlemen in Virginia who expressed the greatest interest
in my statement, more particularly in regard to that portion of it which
related to the Antarctic Ocean, was Mr. Poe, lately editor of the Southern

273

274 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

Literary Messenger, a monthly magazine, published by Mr. Thomas W.
White, in the city of Richmond. He strongly advised me, among others,
to prepare at once a full account of what I had seen and undergone, and
trust to the shrewdness and common-sense of the public — insisting, with
great plausibility, that however roughly, as regards mere authorship, my
book should be got up, its very uncouthness, if there were any, would give
it all the better chance of being received as truth.

Notwithstanding this representation, I did not make up my mind to do
as he suggested. He afterward proposed (finding that I would not stir in
the matter) that I should allow him to draw up, in his own words, a narra-
tive of the earlier portion of my adventures, from facts afforded by myself,
publishing it in the Southern Messenger under the garb of fiction. To this,
perceiving no objection, I consented, stipulating only that my real name
should be retained. Two numbers of the pretented fiction appeared, con-
sequently, in the Messenger for January and February (1837), and, in order
that it might certainly be regarded as fiction, the name of Mr. Poe was
affixed to the articles in the table of contents of the magazine.

The manner in which this ruse was received has induced me at length to
undertake a regular compilation and publication of the adventures in ques-
tion ; for I found that, in spite of the air of fable which had been so ingen-
iously thrown around that portion of my statement which appeared in the
Messenger (without altering or distorting a single fact), the public were still
not at all disposed to receive it as fable, and several letters were sent to Mr.
P.'s address, distinctly expressing a conviction to the contrary. I thence
concluded that the facts of my narrative would prove of such a nature as to
carry with them sufficient evidence of their own authenticity, and that I had
consequently little to fear on the score of popular incredulity.

This expose being made, it will be seen at once how much of what
follows I claim to be my own writing ; and it will also be understood that
no fact is misrepresented in the first few pages which were written by Mr.
Poe. Even to those readers who have not seen the Messenger, it will be
unnecessary to point out where his portion ends and my own commences ;
the difference in point of style will be readily perceived.

A. G. PYM.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

CHAPTER I.

MY name is Arthur Gordon Pym. My father was a
respectable trader in sea-stores at Nantucket,
where I was born. My maternal grandfather was an at-
torney in good practice. He was fortunate in every thing,
and had speculated very successfully in stocks of the
Edgarton New Bank, as it was formerly called. By these
and other means he had managed to lay by a tolerable sum
of money. He was more attached to myself, I believe,
than to any other person in the world, and I expected to
inherit the most of his property at his death. He sent me,
at six years of age, to the school of old Mr. Ricketts, a
gentleman with only one arm, and of eccentric manners —
he is well known to almost every person who has visited
New Bedford. I stayed at his school until I was sixteen,
when I left him for Mr. E. Ronald's academy on the hill.
Here I became intimate with the son of Mr. Barnard, a sea-
captain, who generally sailed in the employ of Lloyd and
Vredenburgh — Mr. Barnard is also very well known in
New Bedford, and has many relations, I am certain, in

275

2j6 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

Edgarton. His son was named Augustus, and he was
nearly two years older than myself. He had been on a
whaling voyage with his father in the John Donaldson,
and was always talking to me of his adventures in the
South Pacific Ocean. I used frequently to go home with
him, and remain all day, and sometimes all night. We
occupied the same bed, and he would be sure to keep me
awake until almost light, telling me stories of the natives
of the Island of Tinian, and other places he had visited in
his travels. At last I could not help being interested in
what he said, and by degrees I felt the greatest desire to
go to sea. I owned a sail-boat called the Ariel, and worth
about seventy-five dollars. She had a half deck or cuddy,
and was rigged sloop-fashion — I forget her tonnage, but
she would hold ten persons without much crowding. In
this boat we were in the habit of going on some of the
maddest freaks in the world ; and, when I now think of
them, it appears to me a thousand wonders that I am alive
to-day.

I will relate one of these adventures by way of intro-
duction to a longer and more momentous narrative. One
night there was a party at Mr. Barnard's, and both Augus-
tus and myself were not a little intoxicated toward the
close of it. As usual, in such cases, I took part of his bed
in preference to going home. He went to sleep, as I
thought, very quietly (it being near one when the party
broke up), and without saying a word on his favorite
topic. It might have been half an hour from the time of

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 277

our getting in bed, and I was just about falling into a doze,
when he suddenly started up, and swore with a terrible
oath that he would not go to sleep for any Arthur Pym in
Christendom, when there was so glorious a breeze from the
southwest. I never was so astonished in my life, not
knowing what he intended, and thinking that the wines
and liquors he had drunk had set him entirely beside him-
self. He proceeded to talk very coolly, however, saying
he knew that I supposed him intoxicated, but that he was
never more sober in his life. He was only tired, he added,
of lying in bed on such a fine night like a dog, and was
determined to get up and dress, and go out on a frolic with
the boat. I can hardly tell what possessed me, but the
words were no sooner out of his mouth than I felt a thrill
of the greatest excitement and pleasure, and thought his
mad idea one of the most delightful and most reasonable
things in the world. It was blowing almost a gale, and the
weather was very cold — it being late in October. I sprang
out of bed, nevertheless, in a kind of ecstacy, and told him
I was quite as brave as himself, and quite as tired as he
was of lying in bed like a dog, and quite as ready for any
fun or frolic as any Augustus Barnard in Nantucket.

We lost no time in getting on our clothes and hurrying
down to the boat. She was lying at the old decayed wharf
by the lumber-yard of Pankey & Co., and almost thump-
ing her side out against the rough logs. Augustus got
into her and bailed her, for she was nearly half full of
water. This being done, we hoisted jib and mainsail, kept
full, and started boldly out to sea.

278 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

The wind, as I before said, blew freshly from the south-
west. The night was very clear and cold. Augustus had
taken the helm, and I stationed myself by the mast, on
the deck of the cuddy. We flew along at a great rate —
neither of us having said a word since casting loose from
the wharf. I now asked my companion what course he
intended to steer, and what time he thought it probable
we should get back. He whistled for a few minutes, and
then said crustily : "/ am going to sea — you may go home
if you think proper." Turning my eyes upon him, I per-
ceived at once that, in spite of his assumed noncJialancey
he was greatly agitated. I could see him distinctly by the
light of the moon — his face was paler than any marble,
and his hand shook so excessively that he could scarcely
retain hold of the tiller. I found that something had
gone wrong, and became seriously alarmed. At this period
I knew little about the management of a boat, and was
now depending entirely upon the nautical skill of my
friend. The wind, too, had suddenly increased, and we
were fast getting out of the lee of the land — still I was
ashamed to betray any trepidation, and for almost half an
hour maintained a resolute silence. I could stand it no
longer, however, and spoke to Augustus about the pro-
priety of turning back. As before, it was nearly a minute
before he made answer, or took any notice of my suggest-
ion. " By and by," said he at length — " time enough —
home by and by." I had expected such a reply, but there
was something in the tone of these words which filled me

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 279

with an indescribable feeling of dread. I again looked at
the speaker attentively. His lips were perfectly livid, and
his knees shook so violently together that he seemed
scarcely able to stand. "-For God's sake, Augustus," I
screamed, now heartily frightened, " what ails you ? —
what is the matter ? — what are you going to do ? " " Mat-
ter ! " he stammered, in the greatest apparent surprise,
letting go the tiller at the same moment, and falling for-
ward into the bottom of the boat — " matter — why, nothing
is the — matter — going home — d — d — don't you see?"
The whole truth now flashed upon me. I flew to him
and raised him up. He was drunk — beastly drunk — he
could no longer either stand, speak, or see. His eyes
were perfectly glazed ; and as I let him go in the extrem-
ity of my despair, he rolled like a mere log into the bilge-
water, from which I had lifted him. It was evident that,
during the evening, he had drunk far more than I sus-
pected, and that his conduct in bed had been the result of
a highly-concentrated state of intoxication — a state which,
like madness, frequently enables the victim to imitate the
outward demeanor of one in perfect possession of his
senses. The coolness of the night air, however, had had
its usual effect — the mental energy began to yield before
its influence — and the confused perception which he no
doubt then had of his perilous situation had assisted in
hastening the catastrophe. He was now thoroughly insen-
sible, and there was no probability that he would be
otherwise for many hours.

28o NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

It is hardly possible to conceive the extremity of my
terror. The fumes of the wine lately taken had evapo-
rated, leaving me doubly timid and irresolute. I knew
that I was altogether incapable of managing the boat, and
that a fierce wind and strong ebb-tide were hurrying us to
destruction. A storm was evidently gathering behind us ;
we had neither compass nor provisions ; and it was clear
that, if we held our present course, we should be out of
sight of land before daybreak. These thoughts, with a
crowd of others equally fearful, flashed through my mind
with a bewildering rapidity, and for some moments par-
alyzed me beyond the possibility of making any exertion.
The boat was going through the water at a terrible rate —
full before the wind — no reef in either jib or mainsail —
running her bows completely under the foam. It was a
thousand wonders she did not broach to — Augustus hav-
ing let go the tiller, as I said before, and I being too much
agitated to think of taking it myself. By good luck, how-
ever, she kept steady, and gradually I recovered some
degree of presence of mind. Still the wind was increasing
fearfully ; and whenever we rose from a plunge forward,
the sea behind fell combing over our counter, and deluged
us with water. I was so utterly benumbed, too, in every
limb, as to be nearly unconscious of sensation. At length
I summoned up the resolution of despair, and rushing to
the mainsail, let it go by the run. As might have been
expected, it flew over the bows, and, getting drenched
with water, carried away the mast short off by the board.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 28 1

This latter accident alone saved me from instant destruc-
tion. Under the jib only, I now boomed along before the
wind, shipping heavy seas occasionally, but relieved from
the terror of immediate death. I took the helm, and
breathed with greater freedom, as I found that there yet
remained to us a chance of ultimate escape. Augustus
still lay senseless in the bottom of the boat ; and as there
was imminent danger of his drowning (the water being
nearly a foot deep just where he fell), I contrived to raise
him partially up, and keep him in a sitting position, by
passing a rope round his waist, and lashing it to a ring-bolt
in the deck of the cuddy. Having thus arranged every
thing as well as I could in my chilled and agitated condi-
tion, I recommended myself to God, and made up my
mind to bear whatever might happen with all the fortitude
in my power.

Hardly had I come to this resolution, when, suddenly,
a loud and long scream or yell, as if from the throats of a
thousand demons, seemed to pervade the whole atmos-
phere around and above the boat. Never while I live
shall I forget the intense agony of terror I experienced at
that moment. My hair stood erect on my head — I felt
the blood congealing in my veins — my heart ceased utter-
ly to beat, and without having once raised my eyes to
learn the source of my alarm, I tumbled headlong and
insensible upon the body of my fallen companion.

I found myself, upon reviving, in the cabin of a large
whaling-ship (the Penguin) bound to Nantucket. Sev-

282 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

eral persons were standing over me, and Augustus, paler
than death, was busily occupied in chafing my hands.
Upon seeing me open my eyes, his exclamations of grati-
tude and joy excited alternate laughter and tears from
the rough-looking personages who were present. The
mystery of our being in existence was now soon explained.
We had been run down by the whaling-ship, which was
close-hauled, beating up to Nantucket with every sail she
could venture to set, and consequently running almost at
right angles to our own course. Several men were on the
look-out forward, but did not perceive our boat until it
was an impossibility to avoid coming in contact — their
shouts of warning upon seeing us were what so terribly
alarmed me. The huge ship, I was told, rode immediately
over us with as much ease as our own little vessel would
have passed over a feather, and without the least percepti-
ble impediment to her progress. Not a scream arose from
the deck of the victim — there was a slight grating sound
to be heard mingling with the roar of wind and water, as
the frail bark which was swallowed up rubbed for a mo-
ment along the keel of her destroyer — but this was all.
Thinking our boat (which it will be remembered was dis-
masted) some mere shell cut adrift as useless, the captain
(Captain E. T. V. Block of New London) was for proceed-
ing on his course without troubling himself further about
the matter. Luckily, there were two of the look-out who
swore positively to having seen some person at our helm,
and represented the possibility of yet saving him. A

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON" PYM. 283

discussion ensued, when Block grew angry, and, after a
while, said that " it was no business of his to be eternally
watching for egg-shells ; that the ship should not put about
for any such nonsense ; and if there was a man run down,
it was nobody's fault but his own — he might drown and
be d — d," or some language to that effect. Henderson,
the first mate, now took the matter up, being justly indig-
nant, as well as the whole ship's crew, at a speech evincing
such a degree of heartless atrocity. He spoke plainly,
seeing himself upheld by the men, told the captain he
considered him a fit subject for the gallows, and that he
would disobey his orders if he were hanged for it the mo-
ment he set his foot on shore. He strode aft, jostling
Block (who turned very pale and made no answer) on one
side, and seizing the helm, gave the word, in a firm voice,
Hard-a-lee ! The men flew to their posts, and the ship
went cleverly about. All this had occupied nearly five
minutes, and it was supposed to be hardly within the
bounds of possibility that any individual could be saved
— allowing any to have been on board the boat. Yet,
as the reader has seen, both Augustus and myself were
rescued ; and our deliverance seemed to have been
brought about by two of those almost inconceivable
pieces of good fortune which are attributed by the
wise and pious to the special interference of Providence.
While the ship was yet in stays, the mate lowered the
jolly-boat and jumped into her with the very two men, I
believe, who spoke up as having seen me at the helm.

284 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

They had just left the lee of the vessel (the moon still
shining brightly) when she made a long and heavy roll
to windward, and Henderson, at the same moment, start-
ing up in his seat, bawled out to his crew to back water.
He would say nothing else — repeating his cry impatiently,
back water ! back water / The men put back as speedily
as possible ; but by this time the ship had gone round,
and gotten fully under headway, although all hands on
board were making great exertions to take in sail. In
despite of the danger of the attempt, the mate clung to
the main-chains as soon as they came within his reach.
Another huge lurch now brought the starboard side of
the vessel out of the water neatly as far as her keel, when
the cause of his anxiety was rendered obvious enough.
The body of a man was seen to be affixed in the most
singular manner to the smooth and shining bottom (the
Penguin was coppered and copper-fastened), and beating
violently against it with every movement of the hull.
After several ineffectual efforts, made during the lurches
of the ship, and at the imminent risk of swamping the
boat, I was finally disengaged from my perilous situation
and taken on board — for the body proved to be my own.
It appeared that one of the timber-bolts having started
and broken a passage through the copper, it had arrested
my progress as I passed under the ship, and fastened me
in so extraordinary a manner to her bottom. The head
of the bolt had made its way through the collar of the
green baize jacket I had on, and through the back part of

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 285

my neck, forcing itself out between two sinews and just
below the right ear. I was immediately put to bed —
although life seemed to be totally extinct. There was no
surgeon on board. The captain, however, treated me with
every attention — to make amends, I presume, in the eyes
of his crew, for his atrocious behavior in the previous por-
tion of the adventure.

In the meantime, Henderson had again put off from the
ship, although the wind was now blowing almost a hurri-
cane. He had not been gone many minutes when he fell
in with some fragments of our boat, and shortly after-
ward one of the men with him asserted that he could dis-
tinguish a cry for help at intervals amid the roaring of the
tempest. This induced the hardy seamen to persevere in
their search for more than half an hour, although repeated
signals to return were made them by Captain Block, and
although every moment on the water in so frail a boat
was fraught to them with the most imminent and deadly
peril. Indeed, it is nearly impossible to conceive how the
small jolly they were in could have escaped destruction
for a single instant. She was built, however, for the whal-
ing service, and was fitted, as I have since had reason to
believe, with air-boxes, in the manner of some life-boats
used on the coast of Wales.

After searching in vain for about the period of time
just mentioned, it was determined to get back to the ship.
They had scarcely made this resolve when a feeble cry
arose from a dark object that floated rapidly by. They

286 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

pursued and soon overtook it. It proved to be the entire
deck of the Ariel's cuddy. Augustus was struggling near
it, apparently in the last agonies. Upon getting hold of
him it was found that he was attached by a rope to the
floating timber. This rope, it will be remembered, I had
myself tied round his waist, and made fast to a ring-bolt,
for the purpose of keeping him in an upright position, and
my so doing, it appeared, had been ultimately the means
of preserving his life. The Ariel was slightly put together,
and in going down her frame naturally went to pieces ; the
deck of the cuddy, as might have been expected, was
lifted, by the force of the water rushing in, entirely from
the main timbers, and floated (with other fragments, no
doubt) to the surface — Augustus was buoyed up with it,
and thus escaped a terrible death.

It was more than an hour after being taken on board
the Penguin before he could give any account of himself,
or be made to comprehend the nature of the accident
which had befallen our boat. At length he became
thoroughly aroused, and spoke much of his sensations
while in the water. Upon his first attaining any degree
of consciousness, he found himself beneath the surface,
whirling round and round with inconceivable rapidity, and
with a rope wound in three or four folds tightly about his
neck. In an instant afterward he felt himself going
rapidly upward, when, his head striking violently against
a hard substance, he again relapsed into insensibility.
Upon once more reviving he was in fuller possession of

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 287

his reason — this was still, however, in the greatest degree
clouded and confused. He now knew that some accident
had occurred, and that he was in the water, although his
mouth was above the surface, and he could breathe with
some freedom. Possibly, at this period the deck was
drifting rapidly before the wind, and drawing him after it
as he floated upon his back. Of course, as long as he could
have retained this position, it would have been nearly im-
possible that he should be drowned. Presently a surge
threw him directly athwart the deck ; and this post he
endeavored to maintain, screaming at intervals for help.
Just before he was discovered by Mr. Henderson, he had
been obliged to relax his hold through exhaustion, and,
falling into the sea, had given himself up for lost. During
the whole period of his struggles he had not the faintest
recollection of the Ariel, nor of any matters in connection
with the source of his disaster. A vague feeling of terror
and despair had taken entire possession of his faculties.
When he was finally picked up, every power of his mind
had failed him ; and, as before said, it was nearly an hour
after getting on board the Penguin before he became fully
aware of his condition. In regard to myself — I was resus-
citated from a state bordering very nearly upon death
(and after every other means had been tried in vain for
three hours and a half) by vigorous friction with flannels
bathed in hot oil — a proceeding suggested by Augustus.
The wound in my neck, although, of an ugly appearance,
proved of little real consequence, and I soon recovered
from its effects.

288 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

The Penguin got into port about nine o'clock in the
morning, after encountering one of the severest gales ever
experienced off Nantucket. Both Augustus and myself
managed to appear at Mr. Barnard's in time for breakfast
— which, luckily, was somewhat late, owing to the party
overnight. I suppose, all at the table were too much
fatigued themselves to notice our jaded appearance —
of course, it would not have borne a very rigid scrutiny.
School-boys, however, can accomplish wonders in the way
of deception, and I verily believe not one of our friends
in Nantucket had the slightest suspicion that the terrible
story told by some sailors in town of their having run
down a vessel at sea and drowned some thirty or forty
poor devils, had reference either to the Ariel, my com-
panion, or myself. We two have since very frequently
talked the matter over — but never without a shudder. In
one of our conversations Augustus frankly confessed
to me, that in his whole life he had at no time ex-
perienced so excruciating a sense of dismay, as when
on board our little boat he first discovered the extent
of his intoxication, and felt himself sinking beneath
its influence.

CHAPTER II.

In no affairs of mere prejudice, pro or con, do we
deduce inferences with entire certainty, even from
the most simple data. It might be supposed that a

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 289

catastrophe such as I have just related would have effect-
ually cooled my incipient passion for the sea. On the
contrary, I never experienced a more ardent longing for
the wild adventures incident to the life of a navigator
than within a week after our miraculous deliverance.
This short period proved amply long enough to erase
from my memory the shadows, and bring out in vivid
light all the pleasurably exciting points of color, all
the picturesqueness, of the late perilous accident. My
conversations with Augustus grew daily more frequent
and more intensely full of interest. He had a manner of
relating his stories of the ocean (more than one half of
which I now suspect to have been sheer fabrications) well
adapted to have weight with one of my enthusiastic
temperament and somewhat gloomy although glowing
imagination. It is strange, too, that he most strongly en-
listed my feelings in behalf of the life of a seaman, when
he depicted his more terrible moments of suffering and
despair. For the bright side of the painting I had a
limited sympathy. My visions were of shipwreck and
famine ; of death or captivity among barbarian hordes ; of
a lifetime dragged out in sorrow and tears, upon some
gray and desolate rock, in an ocean unapproachable and
unknown. Such visions or desires — for they amounted to
desires — are common, I have since been assured, to the
whole numerous race of the melancholy among men —
at the time of which I speak I regarded them only as
prophetic glimpses of a destiny which I felt myself in

29O NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

a measure bound to fulfil. Augustus thoroughly entered
into my state of mind. It is probable, indeed, that our
intimate communion had resulted in a partial interchange
of character.

About eighteen months after the period of the Ariel's
disaster, the firm of Lloyd and Vredenburgh (a house
connected in some manner with the Messieurs Enderby,
I believe, of Liverpool) were engaged in repairing and
fitting out the brig Grampus for a whaling voyage. She
was an old hulk, and scarcely sea-worthy when all was
done to her that could be done. I hardly know why she
was chosen in preference to other and good vessels belong-
ing to the same owners — but so it was. Mr. Barnard was
appointed to command her, and Augustus was going with
him. While the brig was getting ready, he frequently
urged upon me the excellency of the opportunity now
offered for indulging my desire of travel. He found me
by no means an unwilling listener — yet the matter could
not be so easily arranged. My father made no direct op-
position ; but my mother went into hysterics at the bare
mention of the design ; and, more than all, my grand-
father, from whom I expected much, vowed to cut me off
with a shilling if I should ever broach the subject to him
again. These difficulties, however, so far from abating
my desire, only added fuel to the flame. I determined to
go at all hazards ; and, having made known my intention
to Augustus, we set about arranging a plan by which it
might be accomplished. In the meantime I forbore

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 29 1

speaking to any of my relations in regard to the voyage,
and, as I busied myself ostensibly with my usual studies,
it was supposed that I had abandoned the design. I have
since frequently examined my conduct on this occasion
with sentiments of displeasure as well as of surprise. The
intense hypocrisy I made use of for the furtherance of my
project — an hypocrisy pervading every word and action
of my life for so long a period of time — could only have
been rendered tolerable to myself by the wild and burning
expectation with which I looked forward to the fulfilment
of my long-cherished visions of travel.

In pursuance of my scheme of deception, I was neces-
sarily obliged to leave much to the management of
Augustus, who wras employed for the greater part of every
day on board the Grampus, attending to some arrange-
ments for his father in the cabin and cabin-hold. At
night, however, we were sure to have a conference, and
talk over our hopes. After nearly a month passed in this
manner, without our hitting upon any plan we thought
likely to succeed, he told me at last that he had de-
termined upon every thing necessary. I had a relation
living in New Bedford, a Mr. Ross, at whose house I was
in the habit of spending occasionally two or three weeks
at a time. The brig was to sail about the middle of June
(June, 1827), and it was agreed that, a day or two before
her putting to sea, my father was to receive a note, as
usual, from Mr. Rqss, asking me to come over and spend
a fortnight with Robert and Emmet (his sons). Augustus

292 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

charged himself with the inditing of this note and getting
it delivered. Having set out, as supposed, for New Bed-
ford, I was then to report myself to my companion, who
would contrive a hiding-place for me in the Grampus.
This hiding-place, he assured me, would be rendered suf-
ficiently comfortable for a residence of many days, during
which I was not to make my appearance. When the brig
had proceeded so far on her course as to make any turning
back a matter out of question, I should then, he said, be
formally installed in all the comforts of the cabin ; and as
to his father, he would only laugh heartily at the joke.
Vessels enough would be met with by which a letter
might be sent home explaining the adventure to my
parents.

The middle of June at length arrived, and every thing
had been matured. The note was written and delivered,
and on a Monday morning I left the house for the New
Bedford packet, as supposed. I went, however, straight
to Augustus, who was waiting for me at the corner of a
street. It had been our original plan that I should keep
out of the way until dark, and then slip on board the
brig ; but, as there was now a thick fog in our favor, it
was agreed to lose no time in secreting me. Augustus
led the way to the wharf, and I followed at a little dis-
tance, enveloped in a thick seaman's-cloak, which he had
brought with him, so that my person might not be easily
recognized. Just as we turned the second corner, after
passing Mr. Edmund's well, who should appear, standing

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 293

right in front of me, and looking me full in the face, but
old Mr. Peterson, my grandfather. " Why, bless my soul,
Gordon," said he, after a long pause, " why, why, — whose
dirty cloak is that you have on ? " " Sir ! " I replied,
assuming, as well as I could, in the exigency of the mo-
ment, an air of offended surprise, and talking in the
gruffest of all imaginable tones — " sir ! you are a sum'mat
mistaken — my name, in the first place, bee'nt nothing at
all like Goddin, and I 'd want you for to know better, you
blackguard, than to call my new obercoat a darty one."
For my life I could hardly refrain from screaming with
laughter at the odd manner in which the old gentleman
received this handsome rebuke. He started back two or
three steps, turned first pale and then excessively red,
threw up his spectacles, then, putting them down, ran full
tilt at me, with his umbrella uplifted. He stopped short,
however, in his career, as if struck with a sudden recollec-
tion ; and presently, turning round, hobbled off down the
street, shaking all the while with rage, and muttering be-
tween his teeth : " Won't do — new glasses — thought it
was Gordon — d — d good-for-nothing salt water Long
Tom."

After this narrow escape we proceeded with greater
caution, and arrived at our point of destination in safety.
There were only one or two of the hands on board, and
these were busy forward, doing something to the fore-
castle combings. Captain Barnard, we knew very well,
was engaged at Lloyd and Vredenburgh's, and would

294 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

remain there until late in the evening, so we had little to
apprehend on his account. Augustus went first up the
vessel's side, and in a short while I followed him, without
being noticed by the men at work. We proceeded at
once into the cabin, and found no person there. It was
fitted up in the most comfortable style — a thing some-
what unusual in a whaling-vessel. There were four very
excellent state-rooms, with wide and convenient berths.
There was also a large stove, I took notice, and a remark-
ably thick and valuable carpet covering the floor of both
the cabin and state-rooms. The ceiling was full seven
feet high, and, in short, every thing appeared of a more
roomy and agreeable nature than I had anticipated.
Augustus, however, would allow me but little time for
observation, insisting upon the necessity of my concealing
myself as soon as possible. He led the way into his own
state-room, which was on the starboard side of the brig,
and next to the bulkheads. Upon entering, he closed
the door and bolted it. I thought I had never seen a
nicer little room than the one in which I now found my-
self. It was about ten feet long, and had only one berth,
which, as I said before, was wide and convenient. In that
portion of the closet nearest the bulkheads there was a
space of four feet square, containing a table, a chair, and
a set of hanging shelves full of books, chiefly books of
voyages and travels. There were many other little com-
forts in the room, among which I ought not to forget a
kind of safe or refrigerator, in which Augustus pointed

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 295

out to me a host of delicacies, both in the eating and
drinking department.

He now pressed with his knuckles upon a certain spot
of the carpet in one corner of the space just mentioned,
letting me know that a portion of the flooring, about
sixteen inches square, had been neatly cut out and again
adjusted. As he pressed, this portion rose up at one end
sufficiently to allow the passage of his finger beneath. In
this manner he raised the mouth of the trap (to which the
carpet was still fastened by tacks), and I found that it led
into the after-hold. He next lit a small taper by means
of a phosphorus match, and, placing the light in a dark
lantern, descended with it through the opening, bidding
me follow. I did so, and he then pulled the cover upon
the hole, by means of a nail driven into the under side —
the carpet, of course, resuming its original position on the
floor of the state-room, and all traces of the aperture being
concealed.

The taper gave out so feeble a ray that it was with the
greatest difficulty I could grope my way through the con-
fused mass of lumber among which I now found myself.
By degrees, however, my eyes became accustomed to the
gloom, and I proceeded with less trouble, holding on to
the skirts of my friend's coat. He brought me, at length,
after creeping and winding through innumerable narrow
passages, to an iron-bound box, such as is used sometimes
for packing fine earthenware. It was nearly four feet
high, and full six long, but very narrow. Two large

296 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

empty oil-casks lay on the top of it, and above these,
again, a vast quantity of straw matting, piled up as high
as the floor of the cabin. In every other direction around
was wedged as closely as possible, even up to the ceiling,
a complete chaos of almost every species of ship-furniture,
together with a heterogeneous medley of crates, hampers,
barrels, and bales, so that it seemed a matter no less than
miraculous that we had discovered any passage at all to
the box. I afterward found that Augustus had purposely
arranged the stowage in this hold with a view to affording
me a thorough concealment, having had only one assist-
ant in the labor, a man not going out in the brig.

My companion now showed me that one of the ends of
the box could be removed at pleasure. He slipped it
aside and displayed the interior, at which I was excessively
amused. A mattress from one of the cabin berths cov-
ered the whole of its bottom, and it contained almost
every article of mere comfort which could be crowded into
so small a space, allowing me, at the same time, sufficient
room for my accommodation, either in a sitting position
or lying at full length. Among other things, there were
some books, pen, ink, and paper, three blankets, a large
jug full of water, a keg of sea-biscuit, three or four im-
mense Bologna sausages, an enormous ham, a cold leg of
roast mutton, and half a dozen bottles of cordials and
liqueurs. I proceeded immediately to take possession of
my little apartment, and this with feelings of higher satis-
faction, I am sure, than any monarch ever experienced

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 297

upon entering a new palace. Augustus now pointed out
to me the method of fastening the open end of the box,
and then, holding the taper close to the deck, showed me
a piece of dark whipcord lying along it. This, he said,
extended from my hiding-place throughout all the neces-
sary windings among the lumber, to a nail which was
driven into the deck of the hold, immediately beneath the
trap-door leading into his state-room. By means of this cord
I should be enabled readily to trace my way out without
his guidance, provided any unlooked-for accident should
render such a step necessary. He now took his departure,
leaving with me the lantern, together with a copious sup-
ply of tapers and phosphorus, and promising to pay me
a visit as often as he could contrive to do so without ob-
servation. This was on the seventeenth of June.

I remained three days and nights (as nearly as I could
guess) in my hiding-place without getting out ofit at all,
except twice for the purpose of stretching my limbs by
standing erect between two crates just opposite the open-
ing. During the whole period I saw nothing of Augustus ;
but this occasioned me little uneasiness, as I knew the
brig was expected to put to sea every hour, and in the
bustle he would not easily find opportunities of coming
down to me. At length I heard the trap open and shut,
and presently he called in a low voice, asking if all was
well, and if there was any thing I wanted. " Nothing," I
replied ; " I am as comfortable as can be ; when will the
brig sail ? " " She will be under weigh in less than half

298 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

an hour/' he answered. " I came to let you know, and
for fear you should be uneasy at my absence. I shall not
have a chance of coming down again for some time — per-
haps for three or four days more. All is going on right
above-board. After I go up and close the trap, do you
creep along by the whipcord to where the nail is driven in.
You will find my watch there — it may be useful to you,
as you have no daylight to keep time by. I suppose you
can't tell how long you have been buried — only three
days — this is the twentieth. I would bring the watch to
your box, but am afraid of being missed." With this he
went up.

In about an hour after he had gone I distinctly felt the
brig in motion, and congratulated myself upon having at
length fairly commenced a voyage. Satisfied with this idea,
I determined to make my mind as easy as possible, and
await the course of events until I should be permitted to
exchange the box for the more roomy, although hardly
more comfortable, accommodations of the cabin. My
first care was to get the watch. Leaving the taper burn-
ing, I groped along in the dark, following the cord through
windings innumerable, in some of which I discovered that,
after toiling a long distance, I was brought back within a
foot or two of a former position. At length I reached the
nail, and securing the object of my journey, returned with
it in safety. I now looked over the books which had
been so thoughtfully provided, and selected the expedi-
tion of Lewis and Clarke to the mouth of the Columbia.

NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YM. 299

With this I amused myself for some time, when, growing
sleepy, I extinguished the light with great care, and soon
fell into a sound slumber.

Upon awaking I felt strangely confused in mind, and
some time elapsed before I could bring to recollection all
the various circumstances of my situation. By degrees,
however, I remembered all. Striking a light, I looked at
the watch ; but it was run down, and there were, conse-
quently, no means of determining how long I slept. My
limbs were greatly cramped, and I was forced to relieve
them by standing between the crates. Presently feeling
an almost ravenous appetite, I bethought myself of the
cold mutton, some of which I had eaten just before going
to sleep, and found excellent. What was my astonish-
ment in discovering it to be in a state of absolute putre-
faction ! This circumstance occasioned me great dis-
quietude; for, connecting it with the disorder of mind I
experienced upon awaking, I began to suppose that I
must have slept for an inordinately long period of time.
The close atmosphere of the hold might have something
to do with this, and might, in the end, be productive of
the most serious results. My head ached excessively ; I
fancied that I drew every breath with difficulty ; and, in
short, I was oppressed with a multitude of gloomy feel-
ings. Still I could not venture to make any disturbance
by opening the trap or otherwise, and, having wound up
the watch, contented myself as well as possible.

Throughout the whole of the next tedious twenty-four

300 NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YM.

hours no person came to my relief, and I could not help ac-
cusing Augustus of the grossest inattention. What alarmed
me chiefly was, that the water in my jug was reduced to
about half a pint, and I was suffering much from thirst,
having eaten freely of the Bologna sausages after the loss
of my mutton. I became very uneasy, and could no
longer take any interest in my books. I was overpowered,
too, with a desire to sleep, yet trembled at the thought of
indulging it, lest their might exist some pernicious influ-
ence, like that of burning charcoal, in the confined air of
the hold. In the meantime the roll of the brig told me
that we were far in the main ocean, and a dull humming
sound, which reached my ears as if from an immense dis-
tance, convinced me no ordinary gale was blowing. I
could not imagine a reason for the absence of Augustus.
We were surely far enough advanced on our voyage to
allow of my going up. Some accident might have hap-
pened to him — but I could think of none which would ac-
count for his suffering me to remain so long a prisoner,
except, indeed, his having suddenly died or fallen over-
board, and upon this idea I could not dwell with any de-
gree of patience. It was possible that we had been
baffled by head-winds, and were still in the near vicinity
of Nantucket. This notion, however, I was forced to
abandon ; for such being the case, the brig must have fre-
quently gone about ; and I was entirely satisfied, from
her continual inclination to the larboard, that she had
been sailing all along with a steady breeze on her star-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 301

board quarter. Besides, granting that . we were still in
the neighborhood of the island, why should not Augustus
have visited me and informed me of the circumstance ?
Pondering in this manner upon the difficulties of my soli-
tary and cheerless condition, I resolved to wait yet an-
other twenty-four hours, when, if no relief were obtained,
I would make my way to the trap, and endeavor either
to hold a parley with my friend, or get at least a little
fresh air through the opening, and a further supply of
water from the state-room. While occupied with this
thought, however, I fell, in spite of every exertion to the
contrary, into a state of profound sleep, or rather stupor.
My dreams were of the most terrific description. Every
species of calamity and horror befell me. Among other
miseries I was smothered to death between huge pillows,
by demons of the most ghastly and ferocious aspect. Im-
mense serpents held me in their embrace, and looked
earnestly in my face with their fearfully shining eyes.
Then deserts, limitless, and of the most forlorn and awe-
inspiring character, spread themselves out before me. Im-
mensely tall trunks of trees, gray and leafless, rose up in
endless succession as far as the eye could reach. Their
roots were concealed in wide-spreading morasses, whose
dreary water lay intensely black, still, and altogether ter-
rible, beneath. And the strange trees seemed endowed
with a human vitality, and waving to and fro their skeleton
arms, were crying to the silent waters for mercy, in the
shrill and piercing accents of the most acute agony and

302 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

despair. The scene changed ; and I stood, naked and
alone, amid the burning sand-plains of Zahara. At my
feet lay crouched a fierce lion of the tropics. Suddenly
his wild eyes opened and fell upon me. With a convulsive
bound he sprang to his feet, and laid bare his horrible teeth.
In another instant there burst from his red throat a roar
like the thunder of the firmament, and I fell impetuously
to the earth. Stifling in a paroxysm of terror, I at last
found myself partially awake. My dream, then, was not
all a dream. Now, at least, I was in possession of my
senses. The paws of some huge and real monster were
pressing heavily upon my bosom — his hot breath was in
my ear — and his white and ghastly fangs were gleaming
upon me through the gloom.

Had a thousand lives hung upon the movement of a
limb or the utterance of a syllable, I could have neither
stirred nor spoken. The beast, whatever it was, retained
his position without attempting any immediate violence,
while I lay in an utterly helpless, and, I fancied, a dying
condition beneath him. I felt that my powers of body
and mind were fast leaving me — in a word, that I was
perishing, and perishing of sheer fright. My brain swam
— I grew deadly sick — my vision failed — even the glaring
eyeballs above me grew dim. Making a last strong effort,
I at length breathed a faint ejaculation to God, and re-
signed myself to die. The sound of my voice seemed to
arouse all the latent fury of the animal. He precipitated
himself at full length upon my body ; but what was my

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 303

astonishment, when, with a long and low whine, he com-
menced licking my face and hands with the greatest
eagerness, and with the most extravagant demonstration
of affection and joy ! I was bewildered, utterly lost in
amazement — but I could not forget the peculiar whine of
my Newfoundland dog Tiger, and the odd manner of his
caresses I well knew. It was he. I experienced a sudden
rush of blood to my temples — a giddy and overpowering
sense of deliverance and reanimation. I rose hurriedly
from the mattress upon which I had been lying, and,
throwing myself upon the neck of my faithful follower
and friend, relieved the long oppression of my bosom in a
flood of the most passionate tears.

As upon a former occasion my conceptions were in a
state of the greatest indistinctness and confusion after
leaving the mattress. For a long time I found it nearly
impossible to connect any ideas ; but, by very slow de-
grees, my thinking faculties returned, and I again called
to memory the several incidents of my condition. For
the presence of Tiger I tried in vain to account ; and after
busying myself with a thousand different conjectures
respecting him, was forced to content myself with rejoic-
ing that he was with me to share my dreary solitude, and
render me comfort by his caresses. Most people love their
dogs, but for Tiger I had an affection far more ardent than
common ; and never, certainly, did any creature more
truly deserve it. For seven years he had been my in-
separable companion, and in a multitude of instances had

304 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

given evidence of all the noble qualities for which we
value the animal. I had resuced him, when a puppy,
from the clutches of a malignant little villain in Nan-
tucket, who was leading him, with a rope around his neck, I
to the water ; and the grown dog repaid the obligation,
about three years afterward, by saving me from the blud-
geon of a street robber.

Getting now hold of the watch, I found, upon applying
it to my ear, that it had again run down ; but at this I
was not at all surprised, being convinced, from the pecul-
iar state of my feelings, that I had slept, as before, for a
very long period of time ; how long, it was of course im-
possible to say. I was burning up with fever, and my
thirst was almost intolerable. I felt about the box for my
little remaining supply of water, for I had no light, the
taper having burnt to the socket of the lantern, and the
phosphorus-box not coming readily to hand. Upon find-
ing the jug, however, I discovered it to be empty — Tiger,
no doubt, having been tempted to drink it, as well as to
devour the remnant of mutton, the bone of which lay,
well picked, by the opening of the box. The spoiled
meat I could well spare, but my heart sank as I thought
of the water. I was feeble in the extreme, so much so
that I shook all over, as with an ague, at the slightest
movement or exertion. To add to my troubles, the brig
was pitching and rolling with great violence, and the oil-
casks which lay upon my box were in momentary danger
of falling down, so as to block up the only way of ingress

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 305

or egress. I felt, also, terrible sufferings from sea-sick-
ness. These considerations determined me to make my
way, at all hazards, to the trap, and obtain immediate re-
lief, before I should be incapacitated from doing so alto-
gether. Having come to this resolve, I again felt about
for the phosphorus-box and tapers. The former I found
after some little trouble ; but, not discovering the tapers
as soon as I had expected (for I remembered very nearly
the spot in which I had placed them), I gave up the search
for the present, and bidding Tiger lie quiet, began at once
my journey toward the trap.

In this attempt my great feebleness became more than
ever apparent. It was with the utmost difficulty I could
crawl along at all, and very frequently my limbs sank
suddenly from beneath me ; when, falling prostrate on my
face, I would remain for some minutes in a state border-
ing on insensibility. Still I struggled forward by slow
degrees, dreading every moment that I should swoon
amid the narrow and intricate windings of the lumber, in
which event I had nothing but death to expect as the re-
sult. At length, upon making a push forward with all
the energy I could command, I struck my forehead vio-
lently against the sharp corner of an iron-bound crate.
The accident only stunned me for a few moments ; but I
found, to my inexpressible grief, that the quick and
violent roll of the vessel had thrown the crate entirely
across my path, so as effectually to block up the passage.
With my utmost exertions I could not move it a single

2,06 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON JPYM.

inch from its position, it being closely wedged in among
the surrounding boxes and ship-furniture. It became
necessary, therefore, enfeebled as I was, either to leave
the guidance of the whipcord and seek out a new passage,
or to climb over the obstacle, and resume the path on the
other side. The former alternative presented too many
difficulties and dangers to be thought of without a shud-
der. In my present weak state of both mind and body,
I should infallibly lose my way if I attempted it, and per-
ish miserably amid the dismal and disgusting labyrinths
of the hold. I proceeded, therefore, without hesita-
tion, to summon up all my remaining strength and forti-
tude, and endeavor, as I best might, to clamber over the
crate.

Upon standing erect, with this end in view, I found the
undertaking even a more serious task than my fears had
led me to imagine. On each side of the narrow passage
arose a complete wall of various heavy lumber, which the
least blunder on my part might be the means of bringing
down upon my head ; or, if this accident did not occur,
the path might be effectually blocked up against my re-
turn by the descending mass, as it was in front by the ob-
stacle there. The crate itself was a long and unwieldy
box, upon which no foothold could be obtained. In vain
I attempted, by every means in my power, to reach the
top, with the hope of being thus enabled to draw myself
up. Had I succeeded in reaching it, it is certain that my
strength would have proved utterly inadequate to the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. ' 307

task of getting over, and it was better in every respect
that I failed. At length, in a desperate effort to force
the crate from its ground, I felt a strong vibration in the
side next me. I thrust my hand eagerly to the edge of
the planks, and found that a very large one was loose.
With my pocket-knife, which, luckily, I had with me, I
succeeded, after great labor, in prying it entirely off ; and
getting through the aperture, discovered, to my exceed-
ing joy, that there were no boards on the opposite side —
in other words, that the top was wanting, it being the
bottom through which I had forced my way. I now met
with no important difficulty in proceeding along the line
until I finally reached the nail. With a beating heart I
stood erect, and with a gentle touch pressed against the
cover of the trap. It did not rise as soon as I had ex-
pected, and I pressed it with somewhat more determination,
still dreading. lest some other person than Augustus might
be in his state-room. The door, however, to my aston-
ishment, remained steady, and I became somewhat un-
easy, for I knew that it had formerly required but little
or no effort to remove it. I pushed it strongly — it was
nevertheless firm ; with all my strength — it still did not
give way : with rage, with fury, with despair — it set at
defiance my utmost efforts ; and it was evident, from the
unyielding nature of the resistance, that the hole had
either been discovered and effectually nailed up, or that
some immense weight had been placed upon it, which it
was useless to think of removing.

308 ' NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

My sensations were those of extreme horror and dis-
may. In vain I attempted to reason on the probable
cause of my being thus entombed. I could summon up
no connected chain of reflection, and, sinking on the floor,
gave way, unresistingly, to the most gloomy imaginings,
in which the dreadful deaths of thirst, famine, suffocation
and premature interment crowded upon me as the promi-
nent disasters to be encountered. At length there re-
turned to me some portion of presence of mind. I arose,
and felt with my fingers for the seams or cracks of
the aperture. Having found them, I examined them
closely to ascertain if they emitted any light from the
state-room ; but none was visible. I then forced the blade
of my penknife through them, until I met with some
hard obstacle. Scraping against it, I discovered it to be a
solid mass of iron, which, from its peculiar wavy feel as I
passed the blade along it, I concluded to be a chain-cable.
The only course now left me was to retrace my way to
the box, and there either yield to my sad fate, or try so to
tranquilize my mind as to admit of my arranging some
plan of escape. I immediately set about the attempt,
and succeeded, after innumerable difficulties, in getting
back. As I sank, utterly exhausted, upon the mattress,
Tiger threw himself at full length by my side, and seemed
as if desirous, by his caresses, of consoling me in my
troubles, and urging me to bear them with fortitude.

The singularity of his behavior at length forcibly ar-
rested my attention. After licking my face and hands for

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 309

some minutes, he would suddenly cease doing so, and ut-
ter a low whine. Upon reaching out my hand toward
him, I then invariably found him lying on his back, with
his paws uplifted. This conduct, so frequently repeated,
appeared strange, and I could in no manner account for
it. As the dog seemed distressed, I concluded that he
had received some injury ; and, taking his paws in
my hands, I examined them one by one, but found no
sign of any hurt. I then supposed him hungry, and gave
him a large piece of ham, which he devoured with avidity
— afterward, however, resuming his extraordinary ma-
noeuvres. I now imagined that he was suffering, like my-
self, the torments of thirst, and was about adopting this
conclusion as the true one, when the idea occurred to me
that I had as yet only examined his paws, and that there
might possibly be a wound upon some portion of his body
or head. The latter I felt carefully over, but found noth-
ing. On passing my hand, however, along his back,
I perceived a slight erection of the hair extending com-
pletely across it. Probing this with my finger, I dis-
covered a string, and tracing it up, found that it encircled
the whole body. Upon a closer scrutiny, I came across a
small slip of what had the feeling of letter paper, through
which the string had been fastened in such a manner
as to bring it immediately beneath the left shoulder
of the animal.

3IO NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

CHAPTER III.

THE thought instantly occurred to me that the
paper was a note from Augustus, and that some un-
accountable accident having happened to prevent his re-
lieving me from my dungeon, he had devised this method
of acquainting me with the true state of affairs. Trem-
bling with eagerness, I now commenced another search
for my phosphorus matches and tapers. I had a confused
recollection of having put them carefully away just before
falling asleep ; and, indeed, previously to my last journey
to the trap, I had been able to remember the exact spot
where I had deposited them. But now I endeavored in
vain to call it to mind, and busied myself for a full hour
in a fruitless and vexatious search for the missing articles ;
never, surely, was there a more tantalizing state of anxiety
and suspense. At length, while groping about, with my
head close to the ballast, near the opening of the box,
and outside of it, I perceived a faint glimmering of light
in the direction of the steerage. Greatly surprised, I en-
deavored to make my way toward it, as it appeared to be
but a few feet from my position. Scarcely had I moved
with this intention, when I lost sight of the glimmer
entirely, and, before I could bring it into view again, was
obliged to feel along by the box until I had exactly
resumed my original situation. Now, moving my head
with caution to and fro, I found that, by proceeding
slowly, with great care, in an opposite direction to that in
which I had at first started, I was enabled to draw near

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 3 1 1

the light, still keeping it in view. Presently I came di-
rectly upon it (having squeezed my way through innu-
merable narrow windings), and found that it proceeded
from some fragments of my matches lying in an empty
barrel turned upon its side. I was wondering how they
came in such a place, when my hand fell upon two or
three pieces of taper-wax, which had been evidently mum-
bled by the dog. I concluded at once that he had
devoured the whole of my supply of candles, and I felt
hopeless of being ever able to read the note of Augustus.
The small remnants of the wax were so mashed up among
other rubbish in the barrel, that I despaired of deriving
any service from them, and left them as they were. The
phosphorus, of which there was only a speck or two,
I gathered up as well as I could, and returned with it,
after much difficulty, to my box, where Tiger had all
the while remained.

What to do next I could not tell. The hold was so in-
tensely dark that I could not see my hand, however close
I would hold it to my face. The white slip of paper could
barely be discerned, and not even that when I looked at
it directly ; by turning the exterior portions of the retina
toward it — that is to say, by surveying it slightly askance,
I found that it became in some measure perceptible.
Thus the gloom of my prison may be imagined, and the
note of my friend, if indeed it were a note from him,
seemed only likely to throw me into further trouble, by
disquieting to no purpose my already enfeebled and agi-

312 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

tated mind. In vain I revolved in my brain a multitude
of absurd expedients for procuring light — such expedients
precisely as a man in the perturbed sleep occasioned by
opium would be apt to fall upon for a similar purpose —
each and all of which appear by turns to the dreamer the
most reasonable and the most preposterous of conceptions,
just as the reasoning or imaginative faculties flicker, alter-
nately, one above the other. At last an idea occurred to
me which seemed rational, and which gave me cause to
wonder, very justly, that I had not entertained it before.
I placed the slip of paper on the back of a book, and, col-
lecting the fragments of the phosphorus matches which I
had brought from the barrel, laid them together upon the
paper. I then, with the palm of my hand, rubbed the
whole over quickly, yet steadily. A clear light diffused
itself immediately throughout the whole surface ; and had
there been any writing upon it, I should not have experi-
enced the least difficulty, I am sure, in reading it. Not
a syllable was there, however — nothing but a dreary
and unsatisfactory blank ; the illumination died away in
a few seconds, and my heart died away within me as it
went.

I have before stated more than once that my intellect,
for some period prior to this, had been in a condition
nearly bordering on idiocy. There were, to be sure, mo-
mentary intervals of perfect sanity, and, now and then,
even of energy ; but these were few. It must be remem-
bered that I had been, for many days certainly, inhaling

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 313

the almost pestilential atmosphere of a close hole in a
whaling vessel, and for a long portion of that time but
scantily supplied with water. For the last fourteen or
fifteen hours I had none — nor had I slept during that
time. Salt provisions of the most exciting kind had been
my chief, and, indeed, since the loss of the mutton, my
only supply of food, with the exception of the sea-biscuit;
and these latter were utterly useless to me, as they were
too dry and hard to be swallowed in the swollen and
parched condition of my throat. I was now in a high
state of fever, and in every respect exceedingly ill. This
will account for the fact that many miserable hours of
despondency elapsed after my last adventure with the
phosphorus, before the thought suggested itself that I had
examined only one side of the paper. I shall not at-
tempt to describe my feelings of rage (for I believe I
was more angry than any thing else) when the egre-
gious oversight I had committed flashed suddenly upon
my perception. The blunder itself would have been
unimportant, had not my own folly and impetuosity
rendered it otherwise — in my disappointment at not
finding some words upon the slip, I had childishly torn
it in pieces and thrown it away, it was impossible to
say where.

From the worst part of this dilemma I was relieved
by the sagacity of Tiger. Having got, after a long
search, a small piece of the note, I put it to the dog's
nose, and endeavored to make him understand that he

314 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

must bring me the rest of it. To my astonishment,
(for I had taught him none of the usual tricks for
which his breed are famous), he seemed to enter at
once into my meaning, and, rummaging about for a
few moments, soon found another considerable portion.
Bringing me this, he paused awhile, and, rubbing his
nose against my hand, appeared to be waiting for my
approval of what he had done. I patted him on the
head, when he immediately made off again. It was
now some minutes before he came back — but when he
did come, he brought with him a large slip, which
proved to be all the paper missing — it having been
torn, it seems, only into three pieces. Luckily, I had no
trouble in finding what few fragments of the phosphorus
were left — being guided by the indistinct glow one or two
of the particles still emitted. My difficulties had taught
me the necessity of caution, and I now took time to re-
flect upon what I was about to do. It was very proba-
ble, I considered, that some words were written upon that
side of the paper which had not been examined — but
which side was that ? Fitting the pieces together gave
me no clue in this respect, although it assured me that the
words (if there were any) would be found all on one side,
and connected in a proper manner, as written. There
was the greater necessity of ascertaining the point in
question beyond a doubt, as the phosphorus remaining
would be altogether insufficient for a third attempt, should
I fail in the one I was now about to make. I placed the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 315

paper on a book as before, and sat for some minutes
thoughtfully revolving the matter over in my mind. At
last I thought it barely possible that the written side
might have some unevenness on its surface, which a deli-
cate sense of feeling might enable me to detect. I de-
termined to make the experiment, and passed my finger
very carefully over the side which first presented itself.
Nothing, however, was perceptible, and I turned the paper,
adjusting it on the book. I now again carried my fore-
finger cautiously along, when I was aware of an exceed-
ingly slight, but still discernible glow, which followed as
it proceeded. This, I knew, must arise from some very
minute remaining particles of the phosphorus with which
I had covered the paper in my previous attempt. The
other, or under side, then, was that on which lay the writ-
ing, if writing there should finally prove to be. Again I
turned the note, and went to work as I had previously
done. Having rubbed in the phosphorus, a brilliancy en-
sued as before — but this time several lines of MS. in a
large hand, and apparently in red ink, became distinctly
visible. The glimmer, although sufficiently bright, was
but momentary. Still, had I not been too greatly ex-
cited, there would have been ample time enough for me
to peruse the whole three sentences before me — for I saw
there were three. In my anxiety, however, to read all
at once, I succeeded only in reading the seven concluding
words, which thus appeared — " blood— your life depends
upon lying close."

316 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON FY AT.

Had I been able to ascertain the entire contents of
the note — the full meaning of the admonition which
my friend had thus attempted to convey, that admoni-
tion, even although it should have revealed a story of
disaster the most unspeakable, could not, I am firmly
convinced, have imbued my mind with one tithe of the
harrowing and yet indefinable horror with which I was
inspired by the fragmentary warning thus received. And
" bloody too, that word of all words — so rife at all times
with mystery, and suffering, and terror — how trebly full
of import did it now appear — how chilly and heavily
(disjointed, as it thus was, from any foregoing words to
qualify or render it distinct) did its vague syllables fall,
amid the deep gloom of my prison, into the innermost
recesses of my soul !

Augustus had, undoubtedly, good reasons for wishing
me to remain concealed, and I formed a thousand sur-
mises as to what they could be — but I could think of
nothing affording a satisfactory solution of the mystery.
Just after returning from my last journey to the trap,
and before my attention had been otherwise directed by
the singular conduct of Tiger, I had come to the resolu-
tion of making myself heard at all events by those on
board, or, if I could not succeed in this directly, of trying
to cut my way through the orlop deck. The half cer-
tainty which I felt of being able to accomplish one of
these two purposes in the last emergency, had given me
courage (which I should not otherwise have had) to

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 317

endure the evils of my situation. The few words I
had been able to read, however, had cut me off from
these final resources, and I now, for the first time, felt all
the misery of my fate. In a paroxysm of despair I threw
myself again upon the mattress, where, for about the
period of a day and night, I lay in a kind of stupor,
relieved only by momentary intervals of reason and recol-
lection.

At length I once more arose, and busied myself in re-
flection upon the horrors which encompassed me. For
another twenty-four hours it was barely possible that I
might exist without water — for a longer time I could not
do so. During the first portion of my imprisonment I
had made free use of the cordials with which Augustus
had supplied me, but they only served to excite fever,
without in the least degree assuaging my thirst. I had
now only about a gill left, and this was of a species of
strong peach liqueur at which my stomach revolted. The
sausages were entirely consumed ; of the ham nothing re-
mained but a small piece of the skin ; and all the biscuit,
except a few fragments of one, had been eaten by Tiger.
To add to my troubles, I found that my headache was in-
creasing momentarily, and with it the species of delirium
which had distressed me more or less since my first falling
asleep. For some hours past it had been with the great-
est difficulty I could breathe at all, and now each attempt
at so doing was attended with the most depressing spas-
modic action of the chest. But there was still another

318 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

and very different source of disquietude, and one, indeed,
whose harassing terrors had been the chief means of
arousing me to exertion from my stupor on the mattress.
It arose from the demeanor of the dog.

I first observed an alteration in his conduct while rub-
bing in the phosphorus on the paper in my last attempt.
As I rubbed, he ran his nose against my hand with a
slight snarl ; but I was too greatly excited at the time to
pay much attention to the circumstance. Soon afterward,
it will be remembered, I threw myself on the mattress,
and fell into a species of lethargy. Presently I became
aware of a singular hissing sound close at my ears, and
discovered it to proceed from Tiger, who was panting and
wheezing in a state of the greatest apparent excitement,
his eyeballs flashing fiercely through the gloom. I spoke
to him, when he replied with a low growl, and then re-
mained quiet. Presently I relapsed into my stupor, from
which I was again awakened in a similar manner. This
was repeated three or four times, until finally his behavior
inspired me with so great a degree of fear, that I became
fully aroused. He was now lying close by the door of
the box, snarling fearfully, although in a kind of under-
tone, and grinding his teeth as if strongly convulsed. I
had no doubt whatever that the want of water or the
confined atmosphere of the hold had driven him mad,
and I was at a loss what course to pursue. I could not
endure the thought of killing him, yet it seemed abso-
lutely necessary for my own safety. I could distinctly

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 319

perceive his eyes fastened upon me with an expression of
the most deadly animosity, and I expected every instant
that he would attack me. At last I could endure my
terrible situation no longer, and determined to make my
way from the box at all hazards, and dispatch him, if his
opposition should render it necessary for me to do so.
To get out, I had to pass directly over his body, and he
already seemed to anticipate my design — raising himself
upon his forelegs (as I perceived by the altered position
of his eyes), and displayed the whole of his white fangs,
which were easily discernible. I took the remains of the
ham-skin, and the bottle containing the liqueur, and se-
cured them about my person, together with a large carv-
ing-knife which Augustus had left me — then, folding my
cloak around me as closely as possible, I made a move-
ment toward the mouth of the box. No sooner did I do
this, than the dog sprang with a loud growl toward my
throat. The whole weight of his body struck me on the
right shoulder, and I fell violently to the left, while the
enraged animal passed entirely over me. I had fallen
upon my knees, with my head buried among the blankets,
and these protected me from a second furious assault,
during which I felt the sharp teeth pressing vigorously
upon the woollen which enveloped my neck — yet, luckily,
without being able to penetrate all the folds. I was now
beneath the dog, and a few moments would place me com-
pletely in his power. Despair gave me strength, and I
rose boldly up, shaking him from me by main force, and

320 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

dragging with me the blankets from the mattress. These
I now threw over him, and before he could extricate him-
self, I had got through the door and closed it effectually
against his pursuit. In this struggle, however, J had been
forced to drop the morsel of ham-skin, and I now found
my whole stock of provisions reduced to a single gill of
liqueur. As this reflection crossed my mind, I felt my-
self actuated by one of those fits of perverseness which
might be supposed to influence a spoiled child in similar
circumstances, and, raising the bottle to my lips, I drained
it to the last drop, and dashed it furiously upon the floor.
Scarcely had the echo of the crash died away, when I
heard my name pronounced in an eager but subdued
voice, issuing from the direction of the steerage. So un-
expected was any thing of the kind, and so intense was
the emotion excited within me by the sound, that I en-
deavored in vain to reply. My powers of speech totally
failed, and in an agony of terror lest my friend should
conclude me dead, and return without attempting to
reach me, I stood up between the crates near the door of
the box, trembling convulsively, and gasping and strug-
gling for utterance. Had a thousand words depended
upon a syllable, I could not have spoken it. There was a
slight movement now audible among the lumber some-
where forward of my station. The sound presently grew
less distinct, then again less so, and still less. Shall I ever
forget my feelings at this moment ? He was going — my
friend, my companion, from whom I had a right to ex-

NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM. 32 1

pect so much — he was going — he would abandon me — he
was gone ! He would leave me to perish miserably, to ex-
pire in the most horrible and loathsome of dungeons — and
one word, one little syllable, would save me — yet that
single syllable I could not utter ! I felt, I am sure, more
than ten thousand times the agonies of death itself. My
brain reeled, and I fell, deadly sick, against the end
of the box.

As I fell, the carving-knife was shaken out from the
waist-band of my pantaloons, and dropped with a rattling
sound to the floor. Never did any strain of the richest
melody come so sweetly to my ears ! With the intensest
anxiety I listened to ascertain the effect of the noise upon
Augustus — for I knew that the person who called my
name could be no one but himself. All was silent for some
moments. At length I again heard the word u Arthur ! "
repeated in a low tone, and one full of hesitation. Re-
viving hope loosened at once my powers of speech, and I
now screamed at the top of • my voice, "Augustus! oh,
Augustus ! " " Hush ! for God's sake be silent ! " he re-
plied, in a voice trembling with agitation ; " I will be with
you immediately — as soon as I can make my way through
the hold." For a long time I heard him moving among
the lumber, and every moment seemed to me an age. At
length I felt his hand upon my shoulder, and he placed, at
the same moment, a bottle of water to my lips. Those
only who have been suddenly redeemed from the jaws of
the tomb, or who have known the insufferable torments

322 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

of thirst under circumstances as aggravated as those which
encompassed me in my dreary prison, can form any idea
of the unutterable transports which that one long draught
of the richest of all physical luxuries afforded.

When I had in some degree satisfied my thirst, Augus-
tus produced from his pocket three or four boiled pota-
toes, which I devoured with the greatest avidity. He had
brought with him a light in a dark lantern, and the grate-
ful rays afforded me scarcely less comfort than the food
and drink. But I was impatient to learn the cause of his
protracted absence, and he proceeded to recount what had
happened on board during my incarceration.

CHAPTER IV.

The brig put to sea, as I had supposed, in about an
hour after he had left the watch. This was on the twen-
tieth of June. It will be remembered that I had then
been in the hold for three days ; and, during this period,
there was so constant a bustle on board, and so much run-
ning to and fro, especially in the cabin and state-rooms,
that he had had no chance of visiting me without the
risk of having the secret of the trap discovered. When
at length he did come, I had assured him that I was
doing as well as possible ; and, therefore, for the two next
days he felt but little uneasiness on my account — still,
however, watching an opportunity of going down. It was
not until the fourth day that he found one. Several times

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 323

during this interval he had made up his mind to let his
father know of the adventure, and have me come up at
once ; but we were still within reaching distance of Nan-
tucket, and it was doubtful, from some expressions which
had escaped Captain Barnard, whether he would not im-
mediately put back if he discovered me to be on board.
Besides, upon thinking the matter over, Augustus, so he
told me, could not imagine that I was in immediate want,
or that I would hesitate, in such case, to make myself
heard at the trap. When, therefore he considered every
thing, he concluded to let me stay until he could meet
with an opportunity of visiting me unobserved. This, as
I said before, did not occur until the fourth day after his
bringing me the watch, and the seventh since I had first
entered the hold. He then went down without taking with
him any water or provisions, intending in the first place
merely to call my attention, and get me to come from
the box to the trap, — when he would go up to the state-
room and thence hand me down a supply. When he de-
scended for this purpose he found that I was asleep, for it
seems that I was snoring very loudly. From all the cal-
culations I can make on the subject, this must have been
the slumber into which I fell just after my return from
the trap with the watch, and which, consequently, must
have lasted for more tlian three entire days and nights at
the very least. Latterly, I have had reason both from
my own experience and the assurance of others, to be ac-
quainted with the strong soporific effects of the stench

324 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

arising from old fish-oil when closely confined ; and when
I think of the condition of the hold in which I was im-
prisoned, and the long period during which the brig had
been used as a whaling vessel, I am more inclined to
wonder that I awoke at all, after once falling asleep, than
that I should have slept uninterruptedly for the period
specified above.

Augustus called to me at first in a low voice and with-
out closing the trap — but I made him no reply. He then
shut the trap, and spoke to me in a louder, and finally in
a very loud tone — still I continued to snore. He was now
at a loss what to do. It would take him some time to
make his way through the lumber to my box, and in the
meanwhile his absence would be noticed by Captain Bar-
nard, who had occasion for his services every minute, in
arranging and copying papers connected with the business
of the voyage. He determined, therefore, upon reflection,
to ascend, and await another opportunity of visiting me.
He was the more easily induced to this resolve, as my
slumber appeared to be of the most tranquil nature, and
he could not suppose that I had undergone any incon-
venience from my incarceration. He had just made up
his mind on these points when his attention was arrested
by an unusual bustle, the sound of which proceeded ap-
parently from the cabin. He sprang through the trap as
quickly as possible, closed it, and threw open the door of
his state-room. No sooner had he put his foot over the
threshold than a pistol flashed in his face, and he was

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 325

knocked down, at the same moment, by a blow from a
handspike.

A strong hand held him on the cabin floor, with a tight
grasp upon his throat; still he was able to see what was
going on around him. His father was tied hand and foot,
and lying along the steps of the companion-way, with his
head down, and a deep wound in the forehead, from which
the blood was flowing in a continued stream. He spoke
not a word, and was apparently dying. Over him stood
the first mate, eyeing him with an expression of fiendish
derision, and deliberately searching his pockets, from
which he presently drew forth a large wallet and a chro-
nometer. Seven of the crew (among whom was the cook,
a negro) were rummaging the state-rooms on the larboard
for arms, where they soon equipped themselves with mus-
kets and ammunition. Besides Augustus and Captain
Barnard, there were nine men altogether in the cabin, and
these among the most ruffianly of the brig's company.
The villains now went upon deck, taking my friend with
them, after having secured his arms behind his back.
They proceeded straight to the forecastle, which was fast-
ened down — two of the mutineers standing by it with
axes — two also at the main hatch. The mate called out
in a loud voice : " Do you hear there below ? tumble up
with you, one by one — now, mark that — and no grum-
bling ! " It was some minutes before any one appeared ;
— at last an Englishman, who had shipped as a raw hand,
came up, weeping piteously, and entreating the mate, in

326 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

the most humble manner, to spare his life. The only reply-
was a blow on the forehead from an axe. The poor fellow
fell to the deck without a groan, and the black cook lifted
him up in his arms as he would a child, and tossed him
deliberately into the sea. Hearing the blow and the
plunge of the body, the men below could now be induced
to venture on deck neither by threats nor promises, until
a proposition was made to smoke them out. A general
rush then ensued, and for a moment it seemed possible
that the brig might be retaken. The mutineers, however,
succeeded at last in closing the forecastle effectually be-
fore more than six of their opponents could get up. These
six, finding themselves so greatly outnumbered and with-
out arms, submitted after a brief struggle. The mate
gave them fair words — no doubt with a view of inducing
those below to yield, for they had no difficulty in hearing
all that was said on deck. The result proved his sagacity,
no less than his diabolical villainy. All in the forecastle
presently signified their intention of submitting, and,
ascending one by one, were pinioned and then thrown on
their backs, together with the first six — there being, in all
of the crew who were not concerned in the mutiny, twenty-
seven.

A scene of the most horrible butchery ensued. The
bound seamen were dragged to the gangway. Here the
cook stood with an axe, striking each victim on the head
as he was forced over the side of the vessel by the other
mutineers. In this manner twenty-two perished, and

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 327

Augustus had given himself up for lost, expecting every
moment his own turn to come next. But it seemed that
the villains were now either weary, or in some measure
disgusted with their bloody labor ; for the four remaining
prisoners, together with my friend, who had been thrown
on the deck with the rest, were respited while the mate
sent below for rum, and the whole murderous party held
a drunken carouse, which lasted until sunset. They now
fell to disputing in regard to the fate of the survivors,
who lay not more than four paces off, and could distin-
guish every word said. Upon some of the mutineers the
liquor appeared to have a softening effect, for several
voices were heard in favor of releasing the captives alto-
gether, on condition of joining the mutiny and sharing
the profits. The black cook, however (who in all respects
was a perfect demon, and who seemed to exert as much
influence, if not more, than the mate himself), would listen
to no proposition of the kind, and rose repeatedly for the
purpose of resuming his work at the gangway. Fortu-
nately he was so far overcome by intoxication as to be
easily restrained by the less blood-thirsty of the party,
among whom was a line-manager, who went by the name
of Dirk Peters. This man was the son of an Indian
woman of the tribe of Upsarokas, who live among the
fastnesses of the Black Hills, near the source of the Mis-
souri. His father was a fur-trader, I believe, or at least
connected in some manner with the Indian trading-posts
on Lewis river. Peters himself was one of the most

328 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

ferocious-looking men I ever beheld. He was short in
stature, not more than four feet eight inches high, but his
limbs were of Herculean mould. His hands, especially,
were so enormously thick and broad as hardly to retain a
human shape. His arms, as well as legs, were bowed in
the most singular manner, and appeared to possess no
flexibility whatever. His head was equally deformed,
being of immense size, with an indentation on the crown
(like that on the head of most negroes), and entirely bald.
To conceal this latter deficiency, which did not proceed
from old age, he usually wore a wig formed of any hair-
like material which presented itself — occasionally the skin
of a Spanish dog or American grizzly bear. At the time
spoken of, he had on a portion of one of these bear-skins ;
and it added no little to the natural ferocity of his coun-
tenance, which betook of the Upsaroka character. The
mouth extended nearly from ear to ear; the lips were
thin, and seemed, like some other portions of his frame,
to be devoid of natural pliancy, so that the ruling expres-
sion never varied under the influence of any emotion
whatever. This ruling expression may be conceived when
it is considered that the teeth were exceedingly long and
protruding, and never even partially covered, in any in-
stance, by the lips. To pass this man with a casual
glance, one might imagine him to be convulsed with
laughter; but a second look would induce a shuddering
acknowledgment, that if such an expression were indica-
tive of merriment, the merriment must be that of a

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 329

demon. Of this singular being many anecdotes were
prevalent among the seafaring men of Nantucket. These
anecdotes went to prove his prodigious strength when
under excitement, and some of them had given rise to a
doubt of his sanity. But on board the Grampus, it seems,
he was regarded, at the time of the mutiny, with feelings
more of derision than of any thing else. I have been
thus particular in speaking of Dirk Peters, because, fero-
cious as he appeared, he proved the main instrument in
preserving the life of Augustus, and because I shall have
frequent occasion to mention him hereafter in the course
of my narrative — a narrative, let me here say, which, in
its later portions, will be found to include incidents of a
nature so entirely out of the range of human experience,
and for this reason so far beyond the limits of human
credulity, that I proceed in utter hopelessness of ob-
taining credence for all that I shall tell, yet confidently
trusting in time and progressing science to verify some
of the most important and most improbable of my state-
ments/

After much indecision and two or three violent quar-
rels, it was determined at last that all the prisoners (with
the exception of Augustus, whom Peters insisted in a
jocular manner upon keeping as his clerk) should be set
adrift in one of the smallest whale-boats. The mate went
down into the cabin to see if Captain Barnard was still
living — for, it will be remembered, he was left below when
the mutineers came up. Presently the two made their

330 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

appearance, the captain pale as death, but somewhat
recovered from the effects of his wound. He spoke to
the men in a voice hardly articulate, entreated them not
to set him adrift, but to return to their duty, and promis-
ing to land them wherever they chose, and to take
no steps for bringing them to justice. He might as
wrell have spoken to the winds. Two of the ruffians seized
him by the arms and hurled him over the brig's side into
the boat, which had been lowered while the mate went
below. The four men who were lying on the deck
were then untied and ordered to follow, which they did
without attempting any resistance — Augustus being still
left in his painful position, although he struggled and
prayed only for the poor satisfaction of being permitted
to bid his father farewell. A handful of sea-biscuit and
a jug of water were now handed down ; but neither mast,
sail, oar, nor compass. The boat was towed astern for a
few minutes, during which the mutineers held another
consultation — it was then finally cut adrift. By this time
night had come on — there were neither moon nor stars
visible — and a short and ugly sea was running, although
there was no great deal of wind. The boat was instantly
out of sight, and little hope could be entertained for the
unfortunate sufferers who were in it. This event happened,
however, in latitude 350 3c/ north, longitude 61 ° 20' west,
and consequently at no very great distance from the
Bermuda Islands. Augustus therefore endeavored to
console himself with the idea that the boat might either

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDQN PYM. 33 1

succeed in reaching the land, or come sufficiently near to
be fallen in with by vessels off the coast.

All sail was now put upon the brig, and she continued
her original course to the southwest — the mutineers being
bent upon some piratical expedition, in which, from all
that could be understood, a ship was to be intercepted on
her way from the Cape Verd Islands to Porto Rico. No
attention was paid to Augustus, who was untied and
suffered to go about anywhere forward of the cabin com-
panion-way. Dirk Peters treated him with some degree
of kindness, and on one occasion saved him from the
brutality of the cook. His situation was still one of the
most precarious, as the men were continually intoxicated,
and there was no relying upon their continued good-
humor or carelessness in regard to himself. His anxiety
on my account he represented, however, as the most dis-
tressing result of his condition ; and, indeed, I had never
reason to doubt the sincerity of his friendship. More
than once he had resolved to acquaint the mutineers with
the secret of my being on board, but was restrained from
so doing, partly through recollection of the atrocities he
had already beheld, and partly through a hope of being
able soon to bring me relief. For the latter purpose
he was constantly on the watch ; but, in spite of the most
constant vigilance, three days elapsed after the boat was
cut adrift before any chance occurred. At length, on the
night of the third day, there came on a heavy blow from
the eastward, and all hands were called up to take in

332 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

sail. During the confusion which ensued, he made
his way below unobserved, and into the state-room.
What was his grief and horror in discovering that the
latter had been rendered a place of deposit for a variety
of sea-stores and ship-furniture, and that several fathoms
of old chain-cable, which had been stowed away beneath
the companion-ladder, had been dragged thence to make
room for a chest, and were now lying immediately upon
the trap ! To remove it without discovery was impossible,
and he returned on deck as quickly as he could. As
he came up, the mate seized him by the throat, and
demanding what he had been doing in the cabin, was
about flinging him over the larboard bulwark, when
his life was again preserved through the interference of
Dirk Peters. Augustus was now put in handcuffs (of
which their were several pairs on board), and his feet
lashed tightly together. He was then taken into the
steerage, and thrown into a lower berth next to the fore-
castle bulkheads, with the assurance that he should never
put his foot on deck again " until the brig was no longer a
brig." This was the expression of the cook, who threw
him into the berth — it is hardly possible to say what
precise meaning was intended by the phrase. The whole
affair, however, proved the ultimate means of my relief, as
will presently appear.

NA RRA TI VE OF A. GORDON P YM. 333

CHAPTER V.

For some minutes after the cook had left the fore-
castle, Augustus abandoned himself to despair, never
hoping to leave the berth alive. He now came to the
resolution of acquainting the first of the men who should
come down with my situation, thinking it better to let
me take my chance with the mutineers than perish of
thirst in the hold, — for it had been ten days since I was
first imprisoned, and my jug of water was not a plentiful
supply even for four. As he was thinking on this subject,
the idea came all at once into his head that it might be
possible to communicate with me by the way of the main
hold. In any other circumstances, the difficulty and haz-
ard of the undertaking would have prevented him from
attempting it ; but now he had, at all events, little pros-
pect of life, and consequently little to lose ; he bent his
whole mind, therefore, upon the task.

His handcuffs were the first consideration. At first he
saw no method of removing them, and feared that he
should thus be baffled in the very outset ; but upon a
closer scrutiny he discovered that the irons could be
slipped off and on at pleasure, with very little effort or
inconvenience, merely by squeezing his hands through
them, — this species of manacle being altogether ineffec-
tual in confining young persons, in whom the smaller
bones readily yield to pressure. He now untied his feet,
and, leaving the cord in such a manner that it could
easily be readjusted in the event of any person's com-

334 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

ing down, proceeded to examine the bulkhead where
it joined the berth. The partition here was of soft pine
board, an inch thick, and he saw that he should have little
trouble in cutting his way through. A voice was now
heard at the forecastle companion-way, and he had just
time to put his right hand into its handcuff (the left had
not been removed) and to draw the rope in a slipknot
around his ankle, when Dirk Peters came below, followed
by Tiger, who immediately leaped into the berth and lay
down. The dog had been brought on board by Augustus,
who knew my attachment to the animal, and thought it
would give me pleasure to have him with me during the
voyage. He went up to our house for him immediately
after first taking me into the hold, but did not think of
mentioning the circumstance upon his bringing the watch.
Since the mutiny, Augustus had not seen him before his
appearance with Dirk Peters, and had given him up for
lost, supposing him to have been thrown overboard by
some of the malignant villains belonging to the mate's
gang. It appeared afterward that he had crawled into a
hole beneath a whale-boat, from which, not having room
to turn round, he could not extricate himself. Peters at
last let him out, and, with a species of good feeling which
my friend knew well how to appreciate, had now brought
him to him in the forecastle as a companion, leaving at
the same time some salt junk and potatoes, with a can of
water ; he then went on deck, promising to come down
with something more to eat on the next day.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 335

When he had gone, Augustus freed both hands from
the manacles and unfastened his feet. He then turned
down the head of the mattress on which he had been
lying, and with his penknife (for the ruffians had not
thought it worth while to search him) commenced cutting
vigorously across one of the partition planks, as closely as
possible to the floor of the berth. He chose to cut here,
because, if suddenly interrupted, he would be able to con-
ceal what had been done by letting the head of the mat-
tress fall into its proper position. For the remainder of
the day, however, no disturbance occurred, and by night
he had completely divided the plank. It should here be
observed that none of the crew occupied the forecastle as
a sleeping-place, living altogether in the cabin since the
mutiny, drinking the wines and feasting on the sea-stores
of Captain Barnard, and giving no more heed than was
absolutely necessary to the navigation of the brig. These
circumstances proved fortunate both for myself and
Augustus ; for, had matters been otherwise, he would
have found it impossible to reach me. As it was, he pro-
ceeded with confidence in his design. It was near day-
break, however, before he completed the second division
of the board (which was about a foot above the first cut),
thus making an aperture quite large enough to admit his
passage through with facility to the main orlop deck.
Having got here, he made his way with but little trouble
to the lower main hatch, although in so doing he had to
scramble over tiers of oil-casks piled nearly as high as the

336 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

upper deck, there being barely room enough left for his
body. Upon reaching the hatch he found that Tiger
had followed him below, squeezing between two rows of
the casks. It was now too late, however, to attempt get-
ting to me before dawn, as the chief difficulty lay in pass-
ing through the close stowage in the lower hold. He
therefore resolved to return, and wait till the next night.
With this design, he proceeded to loosen the hatch, so
that he might have as little detention as possible when he
should come again. No sooner had he loosened it than
Tiger sprang eagerly to the small opening produced,
snuffed for a moment, and then uttered a long whine,
scratching at the same time, as if anxious to remove the
covering with his paws. There could be no doubt, from
his behavior, that he was aware of my being in the hold,
and Augustus thought it possible that he would be able
to get to me if he put him down. He now hit upon the
expedient of sending the note, as it was especially desira-
ble that I should make no attempt at forcing my way
out, at least under existing circumstances, and there could
be no certainty of his getting to me himself on the mor-
row as he intended. After-events proved how fortunate
it was that the idea occurred to him as it did ; for, had it
not been for the receipt of the note, I should undoubtedly
have fallen upon some plan, however desperate, of alarm-
ing the crew, and both our lives would most probably
have been sacrificed in consequence.

Having concluded to write, the difficulty was now to

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 337

procure the materials for so doing. An old toothpick was
soon made into a pen ; and this by means of feeling alto-
gether, for the between-decks were as dark as pitch.
Paper enough was obtained from the back of a letter — a
duplicate of the forged letter from Mr. Ross. This had
been the original draught ; but the handwriting not being
sufficiently well imitated, Augustus had written another,
thrusting the first, by good fortune, into his coat-pocket,
where it was now most opportunely discovered. Ink
alone was thus wanting, and a substitute was immediately
found for this by means of a slight incision with the pen-
knife on the back of a finger just above the nail — a copi-
ous flow of blood ensuing, as usual, from wounds in that
vicinity. The note was now written, as well as it could
be in the dark and under the circumstances. It briefly
explained that a mutiny had taken place ; that Captain
Barnard was set adrift ; and that I might expect immedL
ate relief as far as provisions were concerned, but must
not venture upon making any disturbance. It concluded
with these words : " I have scrawled this with blood — your
life depends upon lying close."

This slip of paper being tied upon the dog, he was now
put down the hatchway, and Augustus made the best of
his way back to the forecastle, where he found no reason
to believe that any of the crew had been in his absence.
To conceal the hole in the partition, he drove his knife in
just above it, and hung up a pea-jacket which he found in
the berth. His handcuffs were then replaced, and also the
rope around his ankles.

33$ , NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

These arrangements were scarcely completed when Dirk
Peters came below, very drunk, but in excellent humor,
and bringing with him my friend's allowance of provis-
ion for the day. This consisted of a dozen large Irish
potatoes roasted, and a pitcher of water. He sat for some
time on a chest by the berth, and talked freely about the
mate and the general concerns of the brig. His de-
meanor was exceedingly capricious, and even grotesque.
At one time Augustus was much alarmed by his odd
conduct. At last, however, he went on deck, muttering
a promise to bring his prisoner a good dinner on the mor-
row. During the day two of the crew (harpooners) came
down, accompanied by the cook, all three in nearly the
last stage of intoxication. Like Peters, they made no
scruple of talking unreservedly about their plans. It ap-
peared that they were much divided among themselves as
to their ultimate course, agreeing in no point, except the
attack on the ship from the Cape Verd Islands, with which
they were in hourly expectation of meeting. As far as
could be ascertained, the mutiny had not been brought
about altogether for the sake of booty ; a private pique
of the chief mate's against Captain Barnard having been
the main instigation. There now seemed to be two prin-
cipal factions among the crew — one headed by the mate,
the other by the cook. The former party were for seizing
the first suitable vessel which should present itself, and
equipping it at some of the West India Islands for a
piratical cruise. The latter division, however, which was

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 339

the stronger, and included Dirk Peters among its parti-
sans, were bent upon pursuing the course originally laid
out for the brig into the South Pacific ; there either to
take whale, or act otherwise, as circumstances should sug-
gest. The representations of Peters, who had frequently-
visited these regions, had great weight, apparently, with
the mutineers, wavering, as they were, between half-
engendered notions of profit and pleasure. He dwelt on
the world of novelty and amusement to be found among
the innumerable islands of the Pacific, on the perfect
security and freedom from all restraint to be enjoyed,
but, more particularly, on the deliciousness of the climate,
on the abundant means of good living, and on the vo-
luptuous beauty of the women. As yet, nothing had been
absolutely determined upon ; but the pictures of the
hybrid line-manager were taking strong hold upon the
ardent imaginations of the seamen, and there was every
probability that his intentions would be finally carried
into effect.

The three men went away in about an hour, and no one
else entered the forecastle all day. Augustus lay quiet
until nearly night. He then freed himself from the rope
and irons, and prepared for his attempt. A bottle was
found in one of the berths, and this he filled with water
from the pitcher left by Peters, storing his pockets at the
same time with cold potatoes. To his great joy he also
came across a lantern, with a small piece of tallow candle
in it. This he could light at any moment, as he had in

340 NARRATIVE OF A. CORDON PYM.

his possession a box of phosphorus matches. When it
was quite dark, he got through the hole in the bulkhead,
having taken the precaution to arrange the bedclothes in
the berth so as to convey the idea of a person covered up.
When through, he hung up the pea-jacket on his knife, as
before, to conceal the aperture — this manoeuvre being
easily effected, as he did not readjust the piece of plank
taken out until afterward. He was now on the main
orlop deck, and proceeded to make his way, as before,
between the upper deck and the oil-casks to the main
hatchway. Having reached this, he lit the piece of candle,
and descended, groping with extreme difficulty among the
compact stowage of the hold. In a few moments he be-
came alarmed at the insufferable stench and the closeness
of the atmosphere. He could not think it possible that I
had survived my confinement for so long a period breath-
ing so oppressive an air. He called my name repeatedly,
but I made him no reply, and his apprehensions seemed
thus to be confirmed. The brig was rolling violently,
and there was so much noise in consequence, that it was
useless to listen for any weak sound, such as those of my
breathing or snoring. He threw open the lantern, and
held it as high as possible, whenever an opportunity oc-
curred, in order that, by observing the light, I might, if
alive, be aware that succor was approaching. Still nothing
was heard from me, and the supposition of my death be-
gan to assume the character of certainty. He determined,
nevertheless, to force a passage, if possible, to the box,

NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM. 34*

and at least ascertain beyond a doubt the truth of his sur-
mises. He pushed on for some time in a most pitiable
state of anxiety, until, at length, he found the pathway
utterly blocked up, and that there was no possibility of
making any farther way by the course in which he had
set out. Overcome now by his feelings, he threw himself
among the lumber in despair, and wept like a child. It
was at this period that he heard the crash occasioned by
the bottle which I had thrown down. Fortunate, indeed,
was it that the incident occurred — for, upon this incident,
trivial as it appears, the thread of my destiny depended.
Many years elapsed, however, before I was aware of this
fact. A natural shame and regret for his weakness and
indecision prevented Augustus from confiding to me at
once what a more intimate and unreserved communion
afterward induced him to reveal. Upon finding his
further progress in the hold impeded by obstacles which
he could not overcome, he had resolved to abandon his
attempt at reaching me, and return at once to the fore-
castle. Before condemning him entirely on this head, the
harassing circumstances which embarrassed him should be
taken into consideration. The night was fast wearing
away, and his absence from the forecastle might be dis-
covered ; and, indeed, would necessarily be so, if he
should fail to get back to the berth by daybreak. His
candle was expiring in the socket, and there would be the
greatest difficulty in retracing his way to the hatchway in
the dark. It must be allowed, too, that he had every

342 NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YM.

good reason to believe me dead ; in which event no ben-
efit could result to me from his reaching the box, and a
world of danger would be encountered to no purpose by
himself. He had repeatedly called, and I had made him
no answer. I had been now eleven days and nights with
no more water than that contained in the jug which he
had left with me — a supply which it was not at all prob-
able I had hoarded in the beginning of my confinement,
as I had every cause to expect a speedy release. The
atmosphere of the hold, too, must have appeared to him,
coming from the comparatively open air of the steerage,
of a nature absolutely poisonous, and by far more in-
tolerable than it had seemed to me upon my first taking
up my quarters in the box — the hatchway at that time
having been constantly open for many months previous.
Add to these considerations that of the scene of bloodshed
and terror so lately witnessed by my friend ; his confine-
ment, privations, and narrow escapes from death, together
with the frail and equivocal tenure by which he still ex-
isted— circumstances all so well calculated to prostrate
every energy of mind — and the reader will be easily
brought, as I have been, to regard his apparent falling off
in friendship and in faith with sentiments rather of sorrow
than of anger.

The crash of the bottle was distinctly heard, yet Au-
gustus was not sure that it proceeded from the hold.
The doubt, however, was sufficient inducement to perse,
vere. He clambered up nearly to the orlop deck by means

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 343

of the stowage, and then, watching for a lull in the pitch-
ings of the vessel, he called out to me in as loud a tone as
he could command, regardless, for the moment, of being
overheard by the crew. It will be remembered that on
this occasion the voice reached me, but I was so entirely
overcome by violent agitation as to be incapable of reply.
Confident, now, that his worst apprehensions were well
founded, he descended, with a view of getting back to the
forecastle without loss of time. In his haste some small
boxes were thrown down, the noise occasioned by which
I heard, as will be recollected. He had made consid-
erable progress on his return when the fall of the knife
again caused him to hesitate. He retraced his steps im-
mediately, and, clambering up the stowage a second time,
called out my name, loudly as before, having watched for
a lull. This time I found voice to answer. Overjoyed at
discovering me to be still alive, he now resolved to brave
every difficulty and danger in reaching me. Having ex-
tricated himself as quickly as possible from the labyrinth
of lumber by which he was hemmed in, he at length
struck into an opening which promised better, and finally,
after a series of struggles, arrived at the box in a state of
utter exhaustion.

CHAPTER VI.

THE leading particulars of this narration were all that
Augustus communicated to me while we remained near
the box. It was not until afterward that he entered fully

344 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

into all the details. He was apprehensive of being missed,
and I was wild with impatience to leave my detested
place of confinement. We resolved to make our way at
once to the hole in the bulkhead, near which I was to re-
main for the present, while he went through to reconnoitre.
To leave Tiger in the box was what neither of us could
endure to think of ; yet, how to act otherwise was the
question. He now seemed to be perfectly quiet, and we
could not even distinguish the sound of his breathing
upon applying our ears closely to the box. I was con-
vinced that he was dead, and determined to open the
door. We found him lying at full length, apparently in a
deep stupor, yet still alive. No time was to be lost, yet I
could not bring myself to abandon an animal who had
now been twice instrumental in saving my life, without
some attempt at preserving him. We therefore dragged
him along with us as well as we could, although with the
greatest difficulty and fatigue ; Augustus, during part of
the time, being forced to clamber over the impediments
in our way with the huge dog in his arms — a feat to which
the feebleness of my frame rendered me totally inade-
quate. At length we succeeded in reaching the hole,
when Augustus got through, and Tiger was pushed in af-
terward. All was found to be safe, and we did not fail to
return sincere thanks to God for our deliverance from the
imminent danger we had escaped. For the present, it
was agreed that I should remain near the opening,
through which my companion could readily supply me

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM, 345

with a part of his daily provision, and where I could have
the advantages of breathing an atmosphere comparatively
pure.

In explanation of some portions of this narrative,
wherein I have spoken of the stowage of the brig, and
which may appear ambiguous to some of my readers who
may have seen a proper or regular stowage, I must here
state that the manner in which this most important duty
had been performed on board the Grampus was a most
shameful piece of neglect on the part of Captain Barnard,
who was by no means as careful or as experienced a sea-
man as the hazardous nature of the service on which he
was employed would seem necessarily to demand. A
proper stowage cannot be accomplished in a careless man-
ner, and many most disastrous accidents, even within the
limits of my own experience, have arisen from neglect or
ignorance in this particular. Coasting vessels, in the fre-
quent hurry and bustle attendant upon taking in or dis-
charging cargo, are the most liable to mishap from the
want of a proper attention to stowage. The great point
is to allow no possibility of the cargo or ballast shifting
position even in the most violent rollings of the vessel.
With this end, great attention must be paid, not only to
the bulk taken in, but to the nature of the bulk, and
whether there be a full or only a partial cargo. In most
kinds of freight the stowage is accomplished by means of
a screw. Thus, in a load of tobacco or flour, the whole is
screwed so tightly into the hold of the vessel that the

346 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

barrels or hogsheads, upon discharging, are found to be
completely flattened, and take some time to regain their
original shape. This screwing, however, is resorted to
principally with a view of obtaining more room in the
hold ; for in a full load of any such commodities as flour
or tobacco, there can be no danger of any shifting what-
ever, at least none from which inconvenience can result.
There have been instances, indeed, where this method of
screwing has resulted in the most lamentable consequen-
ces, arising from a cause altogether distinct from the dan-
ger attendant upon a shifting of cargo. A load of cotton,
for* example, tightly screwed while in certain conditions,
has been known, through the expansion of its bulk, to
rend a vessel asunder at sea. There can be no doubt,
either, that the same result would ensue in the case of to-
bacco, while undergoing its usual course of fermentation,
were it not for the interstices consequent upon the rotun-
dity of the hogsheads.

It is when a partial cargo is received that danger is
chiefly to be apprehended from shifting, and that precau-
tions should be always taken to guard against such mis-
fortune. Only those who have encountered a violent gale
of wind, or rather who have experienced the rolling of a
vessel in a sudden calm after the gale, can form an idea
of the tremendous force of the plunges, and of the conse-
quent terrible impetus given to all loose articles in the
vessel. It is then that the necessity of a cautious stow-
age, when there is a partial cargo, becomes obvious.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 347

When lying-to (especially with a small head-sail), a vessel
which is not properly modelled in the bows is frequently
thrown upon her beam-ends ; this occurring even every
fifteen or twenty minutes upon an average, yet without
any serious consequences resulting, provided there be a
proper stozvage. If this, however, has not been strictly
attended to, in the first of these heavy lurches the whole
of the cargo tumbles over to the side of the vessel which
lies upon the water, and, being thus prevented from re-
gaining her equilibrium, as she would otherwise necessarily
do, she is certain to fill in a few seconds and go down. It
is not too much to say that at least one half of the in-
stances in which vessels have foundered in heavy gales at
sea may be attributed to a shifting of cargo or of ballast.
When a partial cargo of any kind is taken on board, the
whole, after being first stowed as compactly as may be,
should be covered with a layer of stout shifting-boards,
extending completely across the vessel. Upon these
boards strong temporary stanchions should be erected,
reaching to the timbers above, and thus securing every
thing in its place. In cargoes consisting of grain, or any
similar matter, additional precautions are requisite. A
hold filled entirely with grain upon leaving port will be
found not more than three fourths full upon reaching its
destination — this, too, although the freight, when meas-
ured bushel by bushel by the consignee, will overrun by a
vast deal (on account of the swelling of the grain) the
quantity consigned. This result is occasioned by settling

34§ NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

during the voyage, and is the more perceptible in propor-
tion to the roughness of the weather experienced. If
grain loosely thrown in a vessel, then, is ever so well se-
cured by shifting-boards and stanchions, it will be liable
to shift in a long passage so greatly as to bring about the
most distressing calamities. To prevent these, every
method should be employed before leaving port to settle
the cargo as much as possible ; and for this there are
many contrivances, among which may be mentioned the
driving of wedges into the grain. Even after all this is
done, and unusual pains taken to secure the shifting-
boards, no seaman who knows what he is about will feel
altogether secure in a gale of any violence with a cargo of
grain on board, and, least of all, with a partial cargo. Yet
there are hundreds of our coasting vessels, and, it is likely,
many more from the ports of Europe, which sail daily
with partial cargoes, even of the most dangerous species,
and without any precaution whatever. The wonder is
that no more accidents occur than do actually happen. A
lamentable instance of this heedlessness occurred to my
knowledge in the case of Captain Joel Rice of the schooner
Firefly, which sailed from Richmond, Virginia, to Ma-
deira, with a cargo of corn, in the year 1825. The cap-
tain had gone many voyages without serious accident,
although he was in the habit of paying no attention what-
ever to his stowage, more than to secure it in the ordinary
manner. He had never before sailed with a cargo of
grain, and on this occasion had the corn thrown on board

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 349

loosely, when it did not much more than half fill the ves-
sel. For the first portion of the voyage he met with
nothing more than light breezes ; but when within a day's
sail of Madeira there came on a strong gale from the
N. N. E. which forced him to lie-to. He brought the
schooner to the wind under a double-reefed foresail alone,
when she rode as well as any vessel could be expected to
do, and shipped not a drop of water. Toward night the
gale somewhat abated, and she rolled with more unsteadi-
ness than before, but still did very well, until a heavy
lurch threw her upon her beam-ends to starboard. The
corn was then heard to shift bodily, the force of the move-
ment bursting open the main hatchway. The vessel went
down like a shot. This happended within hail of a small
sloop from Madeira, which picked up one of the crew
(the only person saved), and which rode out the gale in
perfect security, as indeed a jolly-boat might have done
under proper management.

The stowage on board the Grampus was most clumsily
done, if stowage that could be called which was little
better than a promiscuous huddling together of oil-casks*
and ship-furniture. I have already spoken of the condi-
tion of articles in the hold. On the orlop deck there was
space enough for my body (as I have stated) between the
oil-casks and the upper deck ; a space was left open around
the main hatchway ; and several other large spaces were

* Whaling vessels are usually fitted with iron oil-tanks — why the
Grampus was not I have never been able to ascertain.

35° NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

left in the stowage. Near the hole cut through the bulk-
head by Augustus there was room enough for an entire
cask, and in this space I found myself comfortably sit-
uated for the present.

By the time my friend had got safely into the berth,
and readjusted his handcuffs and the rope, it was broad
daylight. We had made a narrow escape indeed ; for
scarcely had he arranged all matters, when the mate came
below with Dirk Peters and the cook. They talked for
some time about the vessel from the Cape Verds, and
seemed to be excessively anxious for her appearance. At
length the cook came to the berth in which Augustus was
lying, and seated himself in it near the head. I could see
and hear every thing from my hiding-place, for the piece
cut out had not been put back, and I was in momentary
expectation that the negro would fall against the pea-
jacket, which was hung up to conceal the aperture, in
which case all would have been discovered, and our lives
would, no doubt, have been instantly sacrificed. Our good
fortune prevailed, however ; and although he frequently
touched it as the vessel rolled, he never pressed against it
sufficiently to bring about a discovery. The bottom of
the jacket had been carefully fastened to the bulkhead, so
that the hole might not be seen by its swinging to one
side. All this time Tiger was lying in the foot of the berth,
and appeared to have recovered in some measure his fac-
ulties, for I could see him occasionally open his eyes and
draw a long breath.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 35 I

After a few minutes the mate and cook went above,
leaving Dirk Peters behind, who, as soon as they were
gone, came and sat himself down in the place just occu-
pied by the mate. He began to talk very sociably with
Augustus, and we could now see that the greater part of
his apparent intoxication, while the two others were with
him, was a feint. He answered all my companion's ques-
tions with perfct freedom ; told him that he had no doubt
of his father's having been picked up, as there were no
less than five sail in sight just before sundown on the day
he was cut adrift ; and used other language of a consola-
tory nature, which occasioned me no less surprise than
pleasure. Indeed, I began to entertain hopes, that
through the instrumentality of Peters we might be finally
enabled to regain possession of the brig, and this idea I
mentioned to Augustus as soon as I found an oppor-
tunity. He thought the matter possible, but urged the
necessity of the greatest caution in making the attempt,
as the conduct of the hybrid appeared to be instigated by
the most arbitrary caprice alone ; and, indeed, it was diffi-
cult to say if he was at any moment of sound mind.
Peters went upon deck in about an hour, and did not
return again until noon, when he brought Augustus a
plentiful supply of junk beef and pudding. Of this, when
we were left alone, I partook heartily, without returning
through the hole. No one else came down into the fore-
castle during the day, and at night I got into Augustus,
berth, where I slept soundly and sweetly until nearly day-

352 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

break, when he awakened me upon hearing a stir upon
deck and I regained my hiding-place as quickly as possi-
ble. When the day was fully broke, we found that Tiger
had recovered his strength almost entirely, and gave no
indications of hydrophobia, drinking a little water that
was offered him with great apparent eagerness. During
the day he regained all his former vigor and appetite.
His strange conduct had been brought on, no doubt, by
the deleterious quality of the air of the hold, and had no
connection with canine madness. I could not sufficiently
rejoice that I had persisted in bringing him with me from
the box. This day was the thirtieth of June, and the
thirteenth since the Grampus made sail from Nantucket.

On the second of July the mate came below, drunk as
usual, and in an excessively good-humor. He came to
Augustus' berth, and, giving him a slap on the back,
asked him if he thought he could behave himself if he let
him loose, and whether he would promise not to be going
into the cabin again. To this, of course, my friend
answered in the affirmative, when the ruffian set him at
liberty, after making him drink from a flask of rum which
he drew from his coat-pocket. Both now went on deck,
and I did not see Augustus for about three hours. He
then came below with the good news that he had
obtained permission to go about the brig as he pleased
anywhere forward of the mainmast, and that he had been
ordered to sleep, as usual, in the forecastle. He brought
me, too, a good dinner, and a plentiful supply of water.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 353

The brig was still cruising for the vessel from the Cape
Verds, and a sail was now in sight, which was thought to
be the one in question. As the events of the ensuing
eight days were of little importance, and had no direct
bearing upon the main incidents of my narrative, I will
here throw them into the form of a journal, as I do not
wish to omit them altogether.

July ^d. — Augustus furnished me with three blankets,
with which I contrived a comfortable bed in my hiding-
place. No one came below, except my companion, dur-
ing the day. Tiger took his station in the berth just by
the aperture, and slept heavily, as if not yet entirely re-
covered from the effects of his sickness. Toward night a
flaw of wind struck the brig before sail could be taken in,
and very nearly capsized her. The puff died away imme-
diately, however, and no damage was done beyond the
splitting of the foretopsail. Dirk Peters treated Augustus
all this day with great kindness, and entered into a long
conversation with him respecting the Pacific Ocean, and
the islands he had visited in that region. He asked him
whether he would not like to go with the mutineers on a
kind of exploring and pleasure voyage in those quarters,
and said that the men were gradually coming over to the
mate's views. To this Augustus thought it best to reply
that he would be glad to go on such an adventure, since
nothing better could be done, and that any thing was pref-
erable to a piratical life.

July 4t/i. — The vessel in sight proved to be a small brig

354 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

from Liverpool, and was allowed to pass unmolested.
Augustus spent most of his time on deck, with a view of
obtaining all the information in his power respecting the
intentions of the mutineers. They had frequent and
violent quarrels among themselves, in one of which a har-
pooner, Jim Bonner, was thrown overboard. The party
of the mate was gaining ground. Jim Bonner belonged
to the cook's gang, of which Peters was a partisan.

July $th. — About daybreak there came on a stiff breeze
from the west, which at noon freshened into a gale, so
that the brig could carry nothing more than her trysail
and foresail. In taking in the foretopsail, Simms, one of
the common hands, and belonging also to the cook's gang,
fell overboard, being very much in liquor, and was drowned
— no attempt being made to save him. The whole number
of persons on board was now thirteen, to wit : Dirk Peters ;
Seymour, the black cook ; Jones ; Greely ; Hart-
man Rogers ; and William Allen, of the cook's party ; the

mate, whose name I never learned ; Absalom Hicks ;

Wilson; John Hunt ; and Richard Parker, of the mate's
party ; — besides Augustus and myself.

July 6th. — The gale lasted all this day, blowing in heavy
squalls, accompanied with rain. The brig took in a good
deal of water through her seams, and one of the pumps
was kept continually going, Augustus being forced to take
his turn. Just at twilight a large ship passed close by us,
without having been discovered until within hail. The
ship was supposed to be the one for which the mutineers

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 355

were on the look-out. The mate hailed her, but the reply
was drowned in the roaring of the gale. At eleven, a sea
was shipped amidships, which tore away a great portion
of the larboard bulwarks, and did some other slight
damage. Toward morning the weather moderated, and
at sunrise there was very little wind.

July 7th. — There was a heavy swell running all this day,
during which the brig, being light, rolled excessively, and
many articles broke loose in the hold, as I could hear dis-
tinctly from my hiding-place. I suffered a great deal
from sea-sickness. Peters had a long conversation this
day with Augustus, and told him that two of his gang,
Greely and Allen, had gone over to the mate, and were
resolved to turn pirates. He put several questions to
Augustus which he did not then exactly understand.
During a part of this evening the leak gained upon the
vessel ; and little could be done to remedy it, as it was
occasioned by the brig's straining, and taking in the water
through her seams. A sail was thrummed, and got under
the bows, which aided us in some measure, so that we
began to gain upon the leak.

July Zth. — A light breeze sprang up at sunrise from the
eastward* when the mate headed the brig to the south-
west, with the intention of making some of the West
India islands, in pursuance of his piratical designs. No
opposition was made by Peters or the cook — at least none
in the hearing of Augustus. All idea of taking the vessel
from the Cape Verds was abandoned. The leak was now

356 NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM.

easily kept under by one pump going every three quarters
of an hour. The sail was drawn from beneath the bows.
Spoke two small schooners during the day.

July gth. — Fine weather. All hands employed in repair-
ing bulwarks. Peters had again a long conversation with
Augustus, and spoke more plainly than he had done hereto-
fore. He said nothing should induce him to come into
the mate's views, and even hinted his intention of taking
the brig out of his hands. He asked my friend if he could
depend upon his aid in such case, to which Augustus said,
"Yes," without hesitation. Peters then said he would
sound the others of his party upon the subject, and went
away. During the remainder of the day Augustus had
no opportunity of speaking with him privately.

CHAPTER VII.

JULY ioth. — Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk.
Weather hazy, with a light baffling wind from the east-
ward. To-day Hartman Rogers died, having been
attacked on the eighth with spasms after drinking a glass
of grog. This man was of the cook's party, and one upon
whom Peters placed his main reliance. He told Augus-
tus that he believed the mate had poisoned him, and that
he expected, if he did not be on the look-out, his own
turn would come shortly. There were now only himself,
Jones, and the cook belonging to his own gang — on the
other side there were five. He had spoken to Jones

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 3$ 7

about taking the command from the mate ; but the pro-
ject having been coolly received, he had been deterred
from pressing' the matter any further, or from saying any
thing to the cook. It was well, as it happened, that he
was so prudent, for in the afternoon the cook expressed
his determination of siding with the mate, and went over
formally to that party ; while Jones took an opportunity
of quarrelling with Peters, and hinted that he would let
the mate know of the plan in agitation. There was now,
evidently, no time to be lost, and Peters expressed his
determination of attempting to take the vessel at all
hazards, provided Augustus would lend him his aid. My
friend at once assured him of his willingness to enter into
any plan for that purpose, and, thinking the opportunity
a favorable one, made known the fact of my being on
board. At this the hybrid was not more astonished than
delighted, as he had no reliance whatever upon Jones,
whom he already considered as belonging to the party of
the mate. They went below immediately, when Augus-
tus called to me by name, and Peters and myself were
soon made acquainted. It was agreed that we should
attempt to retake the vessel upon the first good opportu-
nity, leaving Jones altogether out of our councils. In
the event of success, we were to run the brig into the first
port that offered, and deliver her up. The desertion of
his party had frustrated Peters' design of going into the
Pacific — an adventure which could not be accomplished
without a crew, and he depended upon either getting

35^ NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM.

acquitted upon trial, on the score of insanity (which he
solemnly averred had actuated him in lending his aid to
the mutiny), or upon obtaining a pardon, if found guilty,
through the representations of Augustus and myself.
Our deliberations were interrupted for the present by the
cry of, "All hands take in sail," and Peters and Augustus
ran up on deck.

As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk ; and, before
sail could be properly taken in, a violent squall -laid the
brig on her beam-ends. By keeping her away, however,
she righted, having shipped a good deal of water. Scarce-
ly was every thing secure, when another squall took the
vessel, and immediately afterward another — no damage
being done. There was every appearance of a gale of
wind, which, indeed, shortly came on, with great fury,
from the northward and westward. All was made as snug
as possible, and we laid-to, as usual, under a close-reefed
foresail. As night drew on, the wind increased in vio-
lence, with a remarkably heavy sea. Peters now came
into the forecastle with Augustus, and we resumed our
deliberations.

We agreed that no opportunity could be more favora-
ble than the present for carrying our design into effect, as
an attempt at such a moment would never be anticipated.
As the brig was snugly laid-to, there would be no neces-
sity of manoeuvring her until good weather, when, if we
succeeded in our attempt, we might liberate one, or per-
haps two of the men, to aid us in taking her into port.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 359

The main difficulty was the great disproportion in our
forces. There were only three of us, and in the cabin
there were nine. All the arms on board, too, were in
their possession, with the exception of a pair of small pis-
tols which Peters had concealed about his person, and the
large seaman's knife which he always wore in the waist-
band of his pantaloons. From certain indications, too —
such, for example, as there being no such thing as an axe
or a handspike lying in their customary places — we began
to fear that the mate had his suspicions, at least in regard
to Peters, and that he would let slip no opportunity of
getting rid of him. It was clear, indeed, that what we
should determine to do could not be done too soon.
Still the odds were too much against us to allow of our
proceeding without the greatest caution.

Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and
enter into conversation with the watch (Allen), when he
would be able to throw him into the sea without trouble,
and without making any disturbance, by seizing a good
opportunity; that Augustus and myself should then come
up, and endeavor to provide ourselves with some kind of
weapons from the deck ; and that we should then make a
rush together, and secure the companion-way before any
opposition could be offered. I objected to this, because
I could not believe that the mate (who was a cunning fel-
low in all matters which did not affect his superstitious
prejudices) would suffer himself to be so easily entrapped.
The very fact of their being a watch on deck at all was

360 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

sufficient proof that he was upon the alert, — it not being
usual, except in vessels where discipline is most rigidly
enforced, to station a watch on deck when a vessel is lying-
to in a gale of wind. As I address myself principally, if
not altogether, to persons who have never been to sea, it
may be as well to state the exact condition of a vessel
under such circumstances. Lying-to, or, in sea-parlance,
" laying-to," is a measure resorted to for various purposes,
and effected in various manners. In moderate weather it
is frequently done with a view of merely bringing the ves-
sel to a stand-still, to wait for another vessel, or any simi-
lar object. If the vessel which lies-to is under full sail,
the manoeuvre is usually accomplished by throwing round
some portion of her sails, so as to let the wind take them
aback, when she becomes stationary. But we are now
speaking of lying-to in a gale of wind. This is done when
the wind is ahead, and too violent to admit of carrying
sail without danger of capsizing; and sometimes even
when the wind is fair, but the sea too heavy for the vessel
to be put before it. If a vessel be suffered to scud before
the wind in a very heavy sea, much damage is usually
done her by the shipping of water over her stern, and
sometimes by the violent plunges she makes forward.
This manoeuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in such case,
unless through necessity. When the vessel is in a leaky
condition she is often put before the wind even in the
heaviest seas ; for, when lying-to, her seams are sure to
be greatly opened by her violent straining, and it is not so

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 36 1

much the case when scudding. Often, too, it becomes
necessary to scud a vessel, either when the blast is so ex-
ceedingly furious as to tear in pieces the sail which is em-
ployed with a view of bringing her head to the wind, or
when, through the false modelling of the frame or other
causes, this main object omnnot be effected.

Vessels in a gale of wind are laid-to in different man-
ners, according to their peculiar construction. Some lie-
to best under a foresail, and this, I believe, is the sail most
usually employed. Large square-rigged vessels have sails
for the express purpose, called storm-staysails. But the
jib is occasionally employed by itself, — sometimes the jib
and foresail, or a double-reefed foresail, and not unfre-
quently the after-sails, are made use of. Foretopsails are
very often found to answer the purpose better than any
other species of sail. The Grampus was generally laid-to
under a close-reefed foresail.

When a vessel is to be laid-to, her head is brought up
to the wind just so nearly as to fill the sail under which
she lies when hauled flat aft, — that is, when brought diago-
nally across the vessel. This being done, the bows point
within a few degrees of the direction from which the wind
issues, and the windward bow of course receives the shock
of the waves. In this situation a good vessel will ride out
a very heavy gale of wind without shipping a drop of
water, and without any further attention being requisite
on the part of the crew. The helm is usually lashed
down, but this is altogether unnecessary (except on ac-

362 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

count of the noise it makes when loose), for the rudder
has no effect upon the vessel when lying-to. Indeed, the
helm had far better be left loose than lashed very fast, for
the rudder is apt to be torn off by heavy seas if there be
no room for the helm to play. As long as the sail holds,
a well-modelled vessel will maintain her situation, and ride
every sea, as if instinct with life and reason. If the vio-
lence of the wind, however, should tear the sail into pieces
(a feat which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish
under ordinary circumstances), there is then imminent
danger. The vessel falls off from the wind, and, coming
broadside to the sea, is completely at its mercy : the only
resource in this case is to put her quietly before the wind,
letting her scud until some other sail can be set. Some
vessels will lie-to under no sail whatever, but such are not
to be trusted at sea.

But to return from this digression. It had never been
customary with the mate to have any watch on deck when
lying-to in a gale of wind, and the fact that he had now
one, coupled with the circumstance of the missing axes
and handspikes, fully convinced us that the crew were too
well on the watch to be taken by surprise in the manner
Peters had suggested. Something, however, was to be
done, and that with as little delay as practicable, for there
could be no doubt that a suspicion having been once en-
tertained against Peters, he would be sacrificed upon the
earliest occasion, and one would certainly be either found
or made upon the breaking of the gale.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 363

Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive
to remove, under any pretext, the piece of chain-cable
which lay over the trap in the state-room, we might pos-
sibly be able to come upon them unawares by means of
the hold ; but a little reflection convinced us that the ves-
sel rolled and pitched too violently for any attempt of
that nature.

By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of work-
ing upon the superstitious terrors and guilty conscience of
the mate. It will be remembered that one of the crew,
Hartman Rogers, had died during the morning, having
been attacked two days before with spasms after drinking
some spirits and water. Peters had expressed to us his
opinion that this man had been poisoned by the mate,
and for this belief he had reasons, so he said, which were
incontrovertible, but which he could not be prevailed
upon to explain to us — this wayward refusal being only
in keeping with other points of his singular character.
But whether or not he had any better grounds for sus-
pecting the mate than we had ourselves, we were easily
led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined to act ac-
cordingly.

Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in vio-
lent convulsions ; and the corpse presented in a few min-
utes after death one of the most horrid and loathsome
spectacles I ever remember to have seen. The stomach
was swollen immensely, like that of a man who has been
drowned and lain under water for many weeks. The

364 NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM.

hands were in the same condition, while the face was
shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky whiteness, except
where relieved by two or three glaring red blotches, like
those occasioned by the erysipelas : one of these blotches
extended diagonally across the face, completely covering
up an eye as if with a band of red velvet. In this dis-
gusting condition the body had been brought up from the
cabin at noon to be thrown overboard, when the mate
getting a glimpse of it (for he now saw it for the first
time), and being either touched with remorse for his crime
or struck with terror at so horrible a sight, ordered the
men to sew the body up in its hammock, and allow it the
usual rites of sea-burial. Having given these directions,
he went below, as if to avoid any further sight of his victim.
While preparations were making to obey his orders, the
gale came on with great fury, and the design was aban-
doned for the present. The corpse, left to itself, was
washed into the larboard scuppers, where it still lay at
the time of which I speak, floundering about with the
furious lurches of the brig.

Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in
execution as speedily as possible. Peters went upon deck,
and, as he had anticipated, was immediately accosted by
Allen, who appeared to be stationed more as a watch upon
the forecastle than for any other purpose. The fate of
this villain, however, was speedily and silently decided ;
for Peters, approaching him in a careless manner, as if
about to address him, seized him by the throat, and, be-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 365

fore he could utter a single cry, tossed him over the bul-
warks. He then called to us, and we came up. Our first
precaution was to look about for something with which to
arm ourselves, and in doing this we had to proceed with
great care, for it was impossible to stand on deck an in-
stant without holding fast, and violent seas broke over
the vessel at every plunge forward. It was indispensable,
too, that we should be quick in our operations, for every
minute we expected the mate to be up to set the pumps
going, as it was evident the brig must be taking in water
very fast. After searching about for some time, we could
find nothing more fit for our purpose than the two pump-
handles, one of which Augustus took, and I the other.
Having secured these, we stripped off the shirt of the
corpse and dropped the body overboard. Peters and my-
self then went below, leaving Augustus to watch upon
deck, where he took his station just where Allen had
been placed, and with his back to the cabin companion-
way, so that, if any of the mate's gang should come up,
he might suppose it was the watch.

As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself
so as to represent the corpse of Rogers. The shirt which
we had taken from the body aided us very much, for it
was of singular form and character, and easily recog-
nizable— a kind of smock, which the deceased wore over
his other clothing. It was a blue stockinett, with large
white stripes running across. Having put this on, I pro-
ceeded to equip myself with a false stomach, in imitation

366 NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YM.

of the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse. This was
soon effected by means of stuffing with some bedclothes.
I then gave the same appearance to my hands by drawing
on a pair of white woollen mittens, and filling them in
with any kind of rags that offered themselves. Peters then
arranged my face, first rubbing it well over with white
chalk, and afterward blotching it with blood, which he
took from a cut in his finger. The streak across the eye
was not forgotten, and presented a most shocking ap-
pearance.

CHAPTER VIII.

As I viewed myself in a fragment of looking-glass
which hung up in the cabin, and by the dim light of a
kind of battle-lantern, I was so impressed with a sense of
vague awe at my appearance, and at the recollection of
the terrific reality which I was thus representing, that I
was seized with a violent tremor, and could scarcely sum-
mon resolution to go on with my part. It was necessary,
however, to act with decision, and Peters and myself went
upon deck.

We there found every thing safe, and, keeping close to
the bulwarks, the three of us crept to the cabin companion-
way. It was only partially closed, precautions having been
taken to prevent its being suddenly pushed-to from without,
by means of placing billets of wood on the upper step so
as to interfere with the shutting. We found no difficulty in

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 367

getting a full view of the interior of the cabin through the
cracks where the hinges were placed. It now proved to
have been very fortunate for us that we had not attempted
to take them by surprise, for they were evidently on the
alert. Only one was asleep, and he lying just at the foot
of the companion-ladder, with a musket by his side. The
rest were seated on several mattresses, which had been
taken from the berths and thrown on the floor. They
were engaged in earnest conversation ; and although they
had been carousing, as appeared from two empty jugs,
with some tin tumblers which lay about, they were not as
much intoxicated as usual. All had knives, one or two of
them pistols, and a great many muskets were lying in a
berth close at hand.

We listened to their conversation for some time before
we could make up our minds how to act, having as yet
resolved on nothing determinate, except that we would
attempt to paralyze their exertions, when we should at-
tack them, by means of the apparition of Rogers. They
were discussing their piratical plans, in which all we could
hear distinctly was, that they would unite with the crew
of a schooner Hornet, and, if possible, get the schooner
herself into their possession preparatory to some attempt
on a large scale, the particulars of which could not be
made out by either of us.

One of the men spoke of Peters, when the mate replied
to him in a low voice which could not be distinguished,
and afterward added more loudly, that " he could not un-

368 NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM.

derstand his being so much forward with the captain's brat
in the forecastle, and he thought the sooner both of them
were overboard the better." To this no answer was made,
but we could easily perceive that the hint was well received
by the whole party, and more particularly by Jones. At
this period I was excessively agitated, the more so as I
could see that neither Augustus nor Peters could deter-
mine how to act. I made up my mind, however, to sell
my life as dearly as possible, and not to suffer myself to
be overcome by any feelings of trepidation.

The tremendous noise made by the roaring of the wind
in the rigging, and the washing of the sea over the deck,
prevented us from hearing what was said, except during
momentary lulls. In one of these, we all distinctly heard
the mate tell one of the men to " go forward, and order the
d — d lubbers to come into the cabin," where he could have
an eye upon them, for he wanted no such secret doings on
board the brig. It was well for us that the pitching of
the vessel at this moment was so violent as to prevent
this order from being carried into instant execution. The
cook got up from his mattress to go for us, when a tre-
mendous lurch, which I thought would carry away the
masts, threw him headlong against one of the larboard
state-room doors, bursting it open, and creating a good
deal of other confusion. Luckily, neither of our party
was thrown from his position, and we had time to make
a precipitate retreat to the forecastle, and arrange a hur-
ried plan of action before the messenger made his appear-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 369

ance, or rather before he put his head out of the compan-
ion-hatch, for he did not come on deck. From this
station he could not notice the absence of Allen, and he
accordingly bawled out, as if to him, repeating the orders
of the mate. Peters cried out, " Ay, ay," in a disguised
voice, and the cook immediately went below, without en-
tertaining a suspicion that all was not right.

My two companions now proceeded boldly aft and
down into the cabin, Peters closing the door after him in
the same manner he had found it. The mate received
them with feigned cordiality, and told Augustus that,
since he had behaved himself so well of late, he might
take up his quarters in the cabin and be one of them for
the future. He then poured him out a tumbler half full
of rum, and made him drink it. All this I saw and heard,
for I followed my friends to the cabin as soon as the door
was shut, and took up my old point of observation. I had
brought with me the two pump-handles, one of which I
secured near the companion-way, to be ready for use
when required,

I now steadied myself as well as possible so as to have
a good view of all that was passing within, and endeavored
to nerve myself to the task of descending among the mu-
tineers when Peters should make a signal to me, as agreed
upon. Presently he contrived to turn the conversation
upon the bloody deeds of the mutiny, and by degrees led
the men to talk of the thousand superstitions which are
so universally current among seamen. I could not make

370 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

out all that was said, but I could plainly see the effects of
the conversation in the countenances of those present.
The mate was evidently much agitated, and presently,
when some one mentioned the terrific appearance of
Rogers' corpse, I thought he was upon the point of
swooning. Peters now asked him if he did not think it
would be better to have the body thrown overboard at
once as it was too horrible a sight to see it floundering
about in the scuppers. At this the villian absolutely
gasped for breath, and turned his head slowly round upon
his companions, as if imploring some one to go up and
perform the task. No one, however, stirred, and it was
quite evident that the whole party were wound up to the
highest pitch of nervous excitement. Peters now made
me the signal. I immediately threw open the door of the
companion-way, and, descending, without uttering a syl-
lable, stood erect in the midst of the party.

The intense effect produced by this sudden apparition
is not at all to be wondered at when the various circum-
stances are taken into consideration. Usually, in cases of
a similar nature, there is left in the mind of the spectator
some glimmering of doubt as to the reality of the vision
before his eyes ; a degree of hope, however feeble, that
he is the victim of chicanery, and that the apparition is not
actually a visitant from the old world of shadows. It is
not too much to say that such remnants of doubt have
been at the bottom of almost every such visitation, and
that the appalling horror which has sometimes been

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 37 1

brought about, is to be attributed, even in the cases most
in point, and where most suffering has been experienced,
more to a kind of anticipative horror, lest the apparition
might possibly be real, than to an unwavering belief in
its reality. But, in the present instance, it will be seen
immediately, that in the minds of the mutineers there
was not even the shadow of a basis upon which to rest a
doubt that the apparition of Rogers was indeed a revivifi-
cation of his disgusting corpse, or at least its spiritual
image. The isolated situation of the brig, with its entire
inaccessibility on account of the gale, confined the ap-
parently possible means of deception within such narrow
and definite limits, that they must have thought them-
selves enabled to survey them all at a glance. They had
now been at sea twenty-four days, without holding more
than a speaking communication with any vessel whatever.
The whole of the crew, too — at least all whom they had
the most remote reason for suspecting to be on board —
were assembled in the cabin, with the exception of Allen,
the watch ; and his gigantic stature (he was six feet six
inches high) was too familiar in their eyes to permit the
notion that he was the apparition before them to enter
their minds even for an instant. Add to these considera-
tions the awe-inspiring nature of the tempest, and that of
the conversation brought about by Peters ; the deep im-
pression which the loathsomeness of the actual corpse
had made in the morning upon the imaginations of the
men ; the excellence of the imitation in my person, and

372 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

the uncertain and wavering light in which they beheld
me, as the glare of the cabin lantern, swinging violently
to and fro, fell dubiously and fitfully upon my figure, and
there will be no reason to wonder that the deception had
even more than the entire effect which we had antici-
pated. The mate sprang up from the mattress on which
he was lying, and, without uttering a syllable, fell back,
stone dead, upon the cabin floor, and was hurled to the
leeward like a log by a heavy roll of the brig. Of the
remaining seven, there were but three who had at first
any degree of presence of mind. The four others sat for
some time rooted apparently to the floor — the most piti-
able objects of horror and utter despair my eyes ever
encountered. The only opposition we experienced at all
was from the cook, John Hunt, and Richard Parker; but
they made but a feeble and irresolute defence. The two
former were shot instantly by Peters, and I felled Parker
with a blow on the head from the pump-handle which I
had brought with me. In the mean time, Augustus
seized one of the muskets lying on the floor and shot

another mutineer ( Wilson) through the breast.

There were now but three remaining ; but by this time
they had become aroused from their lethargy, and per-
haps began to see that a deception had been practised
upon them, for they fought with great resolution and
fury, and, but for the immense muscular strength of
Peters, might have ultimately got the better of us.
These three men were Jones, Greely, and Ab-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 373

salom Hicks. Jones had thrown Augustus on the floor,
stabbed him in several places along the right arm, and
would no doubt have soon dispatched him (as neither
Peters nor myself Could immediately get rid of our own
antagonists) had it not been for the timely aid of a friend,
upon whose assistance we, surely, had never depended.
This friend was no other than Tiger. With a low growl,
he bounded into the cabin, at a most critical moment for
Augustus, and, throwing himself upon Jones, pinned him
to the floor in an instant. My friend, however, was now
too much injured to render us any aid whatever, and I
was so encumbered with my disguise that I could do but
little. The dog would not leave his hold upon the throat
of Jones — Peters, nevertheless, was far more than a match
for the two men who remained, and would, no doubt,
have dispatched them sooner, had it not been for the
narrow space in which he had to act, and the tremendous
lurches of the vessel. Presently he was enabled to get
hold of a heavy stool, several of which lay about the floor.
With this he beat out the brains of Greely as he was in
the act of discharging a musket at me, and immediately
afterward a roll of the brig throwing him in contact with
Hicks, he seized him by the throat, and, by dint of sheer
strength, strangled him instantaneously. Thus, in far
less time than I have taken to tell it, we found ourselves
masters of the brig.

The only person of our opponents wrho was left alive
was Richard Parker. This man, it will be remembered, I

374 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

had knocked down with a blow from the pump-handle at
the commencement of the attack. He now lay motion-
less by the door of the shattered state-room ; but, upon
Peters touching him with his foot, he spoke, and en-
treated for mercy. His head was only slightly cut, and
otherwise he had received no injury, having been merely
stunned by the blow. He now got up, and, for the
present, we secured his hands behind his back. The dog
was still growling over Jones; but, upon examination, we
found him completely dead, the blood issuing in a stream
from a deep wound in the throat, inflicted, no doubt, by
the sharp teeth of the animal.

It was now about one o'clock in the morning, and the
wind was still blowing tremendously. The brig evidently
labored much more than usual, and it became absolutely
necessary that something should be done with a view
of easing her in some measure. At almost every roll
to leeward she shipped a sea, several of which came
partially down into the cabin during our scuffle, the hatch-
way having been left open by myself when I descended.
The entire range of bulwarks to larboard had been swept
away, as well as the caboose, together with the jolly-boat
from the counter. The creaking and working of the
mainmast, too, gave indication that it was nearly sprung.
To make room for more stowage in the after-hold, the
heel of this mast had been stepped between decks (a very
reprehensible practice, occasionally resorted to by ignorant
ship-builders), so that it was in imminent danger of work-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 375

ing from its step. But, to crown all our difficulties, we
plummed the well, and found no less than seven feet
of water.

Leaving the bodies of the crew lying in the cabin,
we got to work immediately at the pumps — Parker, of
course, being set at liberty to assist us in the labor.
Augustus' arm was bound up as well as we could effect
it, and he did what he could, but that was not much.
However, we found that we could just manage to keep
the leak from gaining upon us by having one pump con-
stantly going. As there were only four of us, this was
severe labor ; but we endeavored to keep up our spirits,
and looked anxiously for daybreak, when we hoped to
lighten the brig by cutting away the mainmast.

In this manner we passed a night of terrible anxiety
and fatigue, and, when the day at length broke, the gale
had neither abated in the least, nor were there any signs of
its abating. We now dragged the bodies on deck and
threw them overboard. Our next care was to get rid
of the mainmast. The necessary preparations having
been made, Peters cut away at the mast (having found
axes in the cabin), while the rest of us stood by the stays
and lanyards. As the brig gave a tremendous lee-lurch,
the word was given to cut away the weather-lanyards,
which being done, the whole mass of wood and rigging
plunged into the sea, clear of the brig, and without doing
any material injury. We now found that the vessel did
not labor quite as much as before, but our situation was

37^ NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

still exceedingly precarious, and, in spite of the utmost
exertions, we could not gain upon the leak without
the aid of both pumps. The little assistance which
Augustus could render us was not really of any im-
portance. To add to our distress, a heavy sea, striking the
brig to the windward, threw her off several points from the
wind, and, before she could regain her position, another
broke completely over her, and hurled her full upon her
beam-ends. The ballast now shifted in a mass to leeward
(the stowage had been knocking about perfectly at random
for some time), and for a few moments we thought noth-
ing could save us from capsizing. Presently, however, we
partially righted ; but the ballast still retaining its place to
larboard, we lay so much along that it was useless to
think of working the pumps, which indeed we could not
have done much longer in any case, as our hands were en-
tirely raw with the excessive labor we had undergone, and
were bleeding in the most horrible manner.

Contrary to Parker's advice, we now proceeded to cut
away the foremast, and at length accomplished it after
much difficulty, owing to the position in which we lay.
In going overboard the wreck took with it the bowsprit,
and left us a complete hulk.

So far we had had reason to rejoice in the escape of our
long-boat, which had received no damage from any of the
huge seas which had come on board. But we had not
long to congratulate ourselves ; for the foremast having
gone, and, of course, the foresail with it, by which the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 377

brig had been steadied, every sea now made a complete
breach over us, and in five minutes our deck was swept
from stem to stern, the longboat and starboard bulwarks
torn off, and even the windlass shattered into fragments.
It was, indeed, hardly possible for us to be in a more piti-
able condition.

At noon there seemed to be some slight appearance of
the gale's abating, but in this we were sadly disappointed,
for it only lulled for a few minutes to blow with redoubled
fury. About four in the afternoon it was utterly impos-
sible to stand up against the violence of the blast ;
and, as the night closed in upon us, I had not a shadow
of hope that the vessel would hold together until
morning.

By midnight we had settled very deep in the water,
which was now up to the orlop deck. The rudder went
soon afterward, the sea which tore it away lifting the after-
portion of the brig entirely from the water, against which
she thumped in her descent with such a concussion as
would be occasioned by going ashore. We had all calcu-
lated that the rudder would hold its own to the last, as it
was unusually strong, being rigged as I have never seen
one rigged either before or since. Down its main timber
there ran a succession of stout iron hooks, and others in
the same manner down the stern-post. Through these
hooks there extended a very thick wrought-iron rod, the
rudder being thus held to the stern-post, and swinging
freely on the rod. The tremendous force of the sea which

37$ NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

tore it off may be estimated by the fact, that the hooks
in the stern-post, which ran entirely through it, being
clinched on the inside, were drawn every one of them com-
pletely out of the solid wood.

We had scarcely time to draw breath after the violence
of this shock, when one of the most tremendous waves I
had then ever known broke right on board of us, sweep-
ing the companion-way clear off, bursting in the hatch-
ways, and filling every inch of the vessel with water.

CHAPTER IX.

LUCKILY, just before night, all four of us had lashed
ourselves firmly to the fragments of the windlass, lying in
this manner as flat upon the deck as possible. This pre-
caution alone saved us from destruction. As it was, we
were all more or less stunned by the immense weight of
water which tumbled upon us, and which did not roll
from above us until we were nearly exhausted. As soon
as I could recover breath, I called aloud to my com-
panions. Augustus alone replied, saying : " It is all over
with us, and may God have mercy upon our souls ! " By
and by both the others were enabled to speak, when they
exhorted us to take courage, as there was still hope ; it
being impossible, from the nature of the cargo, that the
brig could go down, and there being every chance that the
gale would blow over by the morning. These words in-
spired me with new life ; for, strange as it may seem,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 279

although it was obvious that a vessel with a cargo of
empty oil-casks would not sink, I had been hitherto so
confused in mind as to have overlooked this consideration
altogether; and the danger which I had for some time
regarded as the most imminent was that of foundering.
As hope revived within me, I made use of every opportu-
nity to strengthen the lashings which held me to the re-
mains of the windlass, and in this occupation I soon dis-
covered that my companions were also busy. The night
was as dark as it could possibly be, and the horrible
shrieking din and confusion which surrounded us it is use-
less to attempt describing. Our deck lay level with the
sea, or rather we were encircled with a towering ridge of
foam, a portion of which swept over us every instant. It
is not too much to say that our heads were not fairly out
of water more than one second in three. Although we
lay close together, no one of us could see the other, or,
indeed, any portion of the brig itself, upon which we were
so tempestuously hurled about. At intervals we called
one to the other, thus endeavoring to keep alive hope,
and render consolation and encouragement to such of us
as stood most in need of it. The feeble condition of
Augustus made him an object of solicitude with us all ;
and as, from the lacerated condition of his right arm, it
must have been impossible for him to secure his lashings
with any degree of firmness, we were in momentary ex-
pectation of finding that he had gone overboard — yet to
render him aid was a thing altogether out of the question.

380 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

Fortunately, his station was more secure than that of any
of the rest of us ; for the upper part of his body lying just
beneath a portion of the shattered windlass, the seas, as
they tumbled in upon him, were greatly broken in their
violence. In any other situation than this (into which he
had been accidentally thrown after having lashed himself
in a very exposed spot) he must inevitably have perished
before morning. Owing to the brig's lying so much
along, we were all less liable to be washed off than other-
wise would have been the case. The heel, as I have be-
fore stated, was to larboard, about one half of the deck
being constantly under water. The seas, therefore, which
struck us to starboard were much broken by the vessel's
side, only reaching us in fragments as we lay flat on our
faces ; while those which came from larboard, being what
are called back-water seas, and obtaining little hold upon
us on account of our posture, had not sufficient force to
drag us from our fastenings.

In this frightful situation we lay until the day broke so
as to show us more fully the horrors which surrounded us.
The brig was a mere log, rolling about at the mercy of
every wave ; the gale was upon the increase, if any thing,
blowing indeed a complete hurricane, and there appeared
to us no earthly prospect of deliverance. For several
hours we held on in silence, expecting every moment that
our lashings would either give way, that the remains of
the windlass would go by the board, or that some of the
huge seas, which roared in every direction around us and

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 38 1

above us, would drive the hulk so far beneath the water
that we should be drowned before it could regain the sur-
face. By the mercy of God, however, we were preserved
from these imminent dangers, and about midday were
cheered by the light of the blessed sun. Shortly after-
ward w£ could perceive a sensible diminution in the force
of the wind, when, now for the first time since the latter
part of the evening before, Augustus spoke, asking Peters,
who lay closest to him, if he thought there was any pos-
sibility of our being saved. As no reply was at first made
to this question, we all concluded that the hybrid had
been drowned where he lay ; but presently, to our great
joy, he spoke, although very feebly, saying that he was in
great pain, being so cut by the tightness of his lashings
across the stomach, that he must either find means of
loosening them or perish, as it was impossible that he
could endure his misery much longer. This occasioned
us great distress, as it was altogether useless to think of
aiding him in any manner while the sea continued wash-
ing over us as it did. We exhorted him to bear his suffer-
ings with fortitude, and promised to seize the first oppor-
tunity which should offer itself to relieve him. He replied
that it would soon be too late ; that it would be all over
with him before we could help him ; and then, after moan-
ing for some minutes, lay silent, when we concluded that
he had perished.

As the evening drew on, the sea had fallen so much that
scarcely more than one wave broke over the hulk from

382 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

windward in the course of five minutes, and the wind had
abated a great deal, although still blowing a severe gale.
I had not heard any of my companions speak for hours,
and now called to Augustus. He replied, although very
feebly, so that I could not distinguish what he said. I
then spoke to Peters and to Parker, neither of whom re-
turned any answer.

Shortly after this period I fell into a state of partial
insensibility, during which the most pleasing images
floated in my imagination ; such as green trees, waving
meadows of ripe grain, processions of dancing girls, troops
of cavalry, and other phantasies. I now remember that,
in all which passed before my mind's eye, motion was a
predominant idea. Thus, I never fancied any stationary
object, such as a house, a mountain, or any thing of that
kind ; but windmills, ships, large birds, balloons, people
on horseback, carriages driving furiously, and similar
moving objects, presented themselves in endless succes-
sion. When I recovered from this state, the sun was, as
near as I could guess, an hour high. I had the greatest
difficulty in bringing to recollection the various circum-
stances connected with my situation, and for some time
remained firmly convinced that I was still in the hold of
the brig, near the box, and that the body of Parker was
that of Tiger.

When I at length completely came to my senses, I
found that the wind blew no more than a moderate breeze,
and that the sea was comparatively calm ; so much so that

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 383

it only washed over the brig amidships. My left arm had
broken loose from its lashings, and was much cut about
the elbow ; my right was entirely benumbed, and the hand
and wrist swollen prodigiously by the pressure of the rope,
which had worked from the shoulder downward. I was
also in great pain from another rope which went about my
waist, and had been drawn to an insufferable degree of tight-
ness. Looking round upon my companions, I saw that
Peters still lived, although a thick line was pulled so forci-
bly around his loins as to give him the appearance of being
cut nearly in two ; as I stirred, he made a feeble motion to
me with his hand, pointing to the rope. Augustus gave no
indication of life whatever, and was bent nearly double
across a splinter of the windlass. Parker spoke to me
when he saw me moving, and asked me if I had not suffi-
cient strength to release him from his situation, saying,
that if I would summon up what spirits I could, and con-
trive to untie him, we might yet save our lives ; but that
otherwise we must all perish. I told him to take courage,
and I would endeavor to free him. Feeling in my panta-
loons pocket, I got hold of my penknife, and, after several
ineffectual attempts, at length succeeded in opening it. I
then, with my left hand, managed to free my right from
its fastenings, and afterward cut the other ropes which
held me. Upon attempting, however, to move from my
position, I found that my legs failed me altogether, and
that I could not get up ; neither could I move my right
arm in any direction. Upon mentioning this to Parker,

384 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

he advised me to lie quiet for a few minutes, holding on
to the windlass with my left hand, so as to allow time for
the blood to circulate. Doing this, the numbness pres-
ently began to die away so that I could move first one of
my legs, and then the other, and, shortly afterward I re-
gained the partial use of my right arm. I now crawled
with great caution toward Parker, without getting on my
legs, and soon cut loose all the lashings about him, when,
after a short delay, he also recovered the partial use of his
limbs. We now lost no time in getting loose the rope
from Peters. It had cut a deep gash through the waist-
band of his woollen pantaloons, and through two shirts,
and made its way into his groin, from which the blood
flowed out copiously as we removed the cordage. No
sooner had we removed it, however, than he spoke, and
seemed to experience instant relief, being able to move
with much greater ease than either Parker or myself — this
was no doubt owing to the discharge of blood.

We had little hopes that Augustus would recover, as he
evinced no signs of life ; but, upon getting to him, we dis-
covered that he had merely swooned from loss of blood,
the bandages we had placed around his wounded arm hav-
ing been torn off by the water ; none of the ropes which
held him to the windlass were drawn sufficiently tight to
occasion his death. Having relieved him from the fasten-
ings, and got him clear of the broken wood about the
windlass, we secured him in a dry place to windward, with
his head somewhat lower than his body, and all three of

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 385

us busied ourselves in chafing his limbs. In about half
an hour he came to himself, although it was not until the
next morning that he gave signs of recognizing any of us,
or had sufficient strength to speak. By the time we had
thus got clear of our lashings it was quite dark, and it be-
gan to cloud up, so that we were again in the greatest
agony lest it should come on to blow hard, in which event
nothing could have saved us from perishing, exhausted as
we were. By good fortune it continued very moderate
during the night, the sea subsiding every minute, which
gave us great hopes of ultimate preservation. A gentle
breeze still blew from the N. W., but the weather was not
at all cold. Augustus was lashed carefully to windward
in such a manner as to prevent him from slipping over-
board with the rolls of the vessel, as he was still too weak
to hold on at all. For ourselves there was no such neces-
sity. We sat close together, supporting each other with
the aid of the broken ropes about the windlass, and devis-
ing methods of escape from our frightful situation. We
derived much comfort from taking off our clothes and
wringing the water from them. When we put them on
after this, they felt remarkably warm and pleasant, and
served to invigorate us in no little degree. We helped
Augustus off with his, and wrung them for him, when he
experienced the same comfort.

Our chief sufferings were now those of hunger and
thirst, and when we looked forward to the means of re-
lief in this respect, our hearts sunk within us, and we were

$86 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

induced to regret that we had escaped the less dreadful
perils of the sea. We endeavored, however, to console
ourselves with the hope of being speedily picked up by
some vessel, and encouraged each other to bear with forti-
tude the evils that might happen.

The morning of the fourteenth at length dawned, and
the weather still continued clear and pleasant, with a
steady but very light breeze from the N. W. The sea
was now quite smooth, and as, from some cause which
we could not determine, the brig did not lie so much
along as she had done before, the deck was comparatively
dry, and we could move about with freedom. We had
now been better than three entire days and nights with-
out either food or drink, and it became absolutely neces-
sary that we should make an attempt to get up some-
thing from below. As the brig was completely full of
water, we went to this work despondingly, and with but
little expectation of being able to obtain any thing. We
made a kind of drag by driving some nails which we broke
out from the remains of the companion-hatch into two
pieces of wood. Tying these across each other, and
fastening them to the end of a rope, we threw them into
the cabin, and dragged them to and fro, in the faint hope
of being thus able to entangle some article which might
be of use to us for food, or which might at least render us
assistance in getting it. We spent the greater part of
the morning in this labor without effect, fishing up noth-
ing more than a few bedclothes, which were readily caught

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 387

by the nails. Indeed, our contrivance was so very clumsy
that any greater success was hardly to be anticipated.

We now tried the forecastle, but equally in vain, and
were upon the brink of despair, when Peters proposed
that we should fasten a rope to his body, and let him
make an attempt to get up something by diving into the
cabin. This proposition we hailed with all the delight
which reviving hope could inspire. He proceeded immedi-
ately to strip off his clothes with the exception of his
pantaloons; and a strong rope was then carefully fastened
around his middle, being brought up over his shoulders in
such a manner that there was no possibility of its slipping.
The undertaking was one of great difficulty and danger;
for, as we could hardly expect to find much, if any, pro-
vision in the cabin itself, it was necessary that the diver,
after letting himself down, should make a turn to the
right, and proceed underwater a distance of ten or twelve
feet, in a narrow passage, to the store-room, and return,
without drawing breath.

Every thing being ready, Peters now descended into the
cabin, going down the companion-ladder until the water
reached his chin. He then plunged in, head first, turning
to the right as he plunged, and endeavoring to make his
way to the store-room. In this first attempt, however, he
was altogether unsuccessful. In less than half a minute
after his going down we felt the rope jerked violently
(the signal we had agreed upon when he desired to be
drawn up). We accordingly drew him up instantly, but

388 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

so incautiously as to bruise him badly against the ladder.
He had brought nothing with him, and had been unable
to penetrate more than a very little way into the passage,
owing to the constant exertions he found it necessary to
make in order to keep himself from floating up against
the deck. Upon getting out he was very much exhausted,
and had to rest full fifteen minutes before he could again
venture to descend.

The second attempt met with even worse success ; for
he remained so long under water without giving the sig-
nal, that, becoming alarmed for his safety, we drew him
out without it, and found that he was almost at the last
gasp, having, as he said, repeatedly jerked at the rope
without our feeling it. This was probably owing to a
portion of it having become entangled in the balustrade
at the foot of the ladder. This balustrade was, indeed,
so much in the way, that we determined to remove it, if
possible, before proceeding with our design. As we had
no means of getting it away except by main force, we all
descended into the water as far as we could on the ladder,
and giving a pull against it with our united strength, suc-
ceeded in breaking it down.

The third attempt was equally unsuccessful with the
two first, and it now became evident that nothing could
be done in this manner without the aid of some weight
with which the diver might steady himself, and keep to
the floor of the cabin while making his search. For a.
long time we looked about in vain for something which

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 389

might answer this purpose ; but at length, to our great
joy, we discovered one of the weather-forechains so loose
that we had not the least difficulty in wrenching it off.
Having fastened this securely to one of his ankles, Peters
now made his fourth descent into the cabin, and this time
succeeded in making his way to the door of the steward's
room. To his inexpressible grief, however, he found it
locked, and was obliged to return without effecting an
entrance, as, with the greatest exertion, he could remain
under water not more, at the utmost extent, than a single
minute. Our affairs now looked gloomy indeed, and nei-
ther Augustus nor myself could refrain from bursting
into tears, as we thought of the host of difficulties which
encompassed us, and the slight probability which existed
of our finally making an escape. But this weakness was
not of long duration. Throwing ourselves on our knees
to God, we implored His aid in the many dangers which
beset us ; and arose with renewed hope and vigor to think
what could yet be done by mortal means toward accom-
plishing our deliverance.

CHAPTER X.

SHORTLY afterward an incident occurred which I am
induced to look upon as more intensely productive of
emotion, as far more replete with the extremes first of
delight and then of horror, than even any of the thou-
sand chances which afterward befell me in nine long

390 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

years, crowded with events of the most startling and,
in many cases, of the most unconceived and uncon-
ceivable character. We were lying on the deck near the
companion-way, and debating the possibility of yet
making our way into the store-room, when, looking
toward Augustus, who lay fronting myself, I perceived
that he had become all at once deadly pale, and that his
lips were quivering in the most singular and unaccounta-
ble manner. Greatly alarmed, I spoke to him, but he
made me no reply, and I was beginning to think that he
was suddenly taken ill, when I took notice of his eyes,
which were glaring apparently at some object behind me.
I turned my head, and shall never forget the ecstatic joy
which thrilled through every particle of my frame, when I
perceived a large brig bearing down upon us, and not
more than a couple of miles off. I sprung to my feet as
if a musket bullet had suddenly struck me to the heart ;
and, stretching out my arms in the direction of the vessel,
stood in this manner, motionless, and unable to articulate
a syllable. Peters and Parker were equally affected,
although in different ways. The former danced about
the deck like a madman, uttering the most extravagant
rhodomontades, intermingled with howls and impreca-
tions, while the latter burst into tears, and continued for
many minutes weeping like a child.

The vessel in sight was a large hermaphrodite brig, of a
Dutch build, and painted black, with a tawdry gilt figure-
head. She had evidently seen a good deal of rough

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 39 1

weather, and, we supposed, had suffered much in the gale
which had proved so disastrous to ourselves ; for her fore-
topmast was gone, and some of her starboard bulwarks.
When we first saw her, she was, as I have already said,
about two miles off and to windward, bearing down upon
us. The breeze was very gentle, and what astonished us
chiefly was, that she had no other sails set than her fore-
sail and mainsail, with a flying jib — of course she came
down but slowly, and our impatience amounted nearly to
phrensy. The awkward manner in which she steered, too,
was remarked by all of us, even excited as we were. She
yawed about so considerably, that once or twice we
thought it impossible she could see us, or imagined that,
having seen us, and discovered no person on board, she
was about to tack and make off in another direction.
Upon each of these occasions we screamed and shouted
at the top of our voices, when the stranger would appear
to change for a moment her intention, and again hold on
toward us — this singular conduct being repeated two or
three times, so that at last we could think of no other
manner of accounting for it than by supposing the helms-
man to be in liquor.

No person was seen upon her decks until she arrived
within about a quarter of a mile of us. We then saw
three seamen, whom by their dress we took to be Hollan-
ders. Two of these were lying on some old sails near the
forecastle, and the third, who appeared to be looking at
us with great curiosity, was leaning over the starboard

392 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

bow near the bowsprit. This last was a stout and tall
man, with a very dark skin. He seemed by his manner
to be encouraging us to have patience, nodding to us in a
cheerful although rather odd way, and smiling constantly,
so as to display a set of the most brilliantly white teeth.
As his vessel drew nearer, we saw a red flannel cap which
he had on fall from his head into the water ; but of this
he took little or no notice, continuing his odd smiles and
gesticulations. I relate these things and circumstances
minutely, and I relate them, it must be understood, pre-
cisely as they appeared to us.

The brig came on slowly, and now more steadily than
before, and — I cannot speak calmly of this event — our
hearts leaped up wildly within us, and we poured out our
whole souls in shouts and thanksgiving to God for the
complete, unexpected, and glorious deliverance that was
so palpably at hand. Of a sudden, and all at once, there
came wafted over the ocean from the strange vessel
(which was now close upon us) a smell, a stench, such as
the whole world has no name for — no conception of —
hellish — utterly suffocating — insufferable, inconceivable.
I gasped for breath, and turning to my companions, per-
ceived that they were paler than marble. But we had
now no time left for question or surmise — the brig was
within fifty feet of us, and it seemed to be her intention
to run under our counter, that we might board her with-
out putting out a boat. We rushed aft, when, suddenly,
a wide yaw threw her off full five or six points from the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 393

course she had been running, and, as she passed under
our stern at the distance of about twenty feet, we had a
full view of her decks. Shall I ever forget the triple
horror of that spectacle ? Twenty-five or thirty human
bodies, among whom were several females, lay scattered
about between the counter and the galley in the last and
most loathsome state of putrefaction. We plainly saw
that not a soul lived in that fated vessel ! Yet we could
not help shouting to the dead for help ! Yes, long and
loudly did we beg, in the agony of the moment, that
those silent and disgusting images would stay for us, would
not abandon us to become like them, would receive us
among their goodly company! We were raving with
horror and despair — thoroughly mad through the anguish
of our grievous disappointment.

As our first loud yell of terror broke forth, it was re-
plied to by something, from near the bowsprit of the
stranger, so closely resembling the scream of a human
voice that the nicest ear might have been startled and de-
ceived. At this instant another sudden yaw brought the
region of the forecastle for a moment into view, and we
beheld at once the origin of the sound. We saw the tall
stout figure still leaning on the bulwark, and still nodding
his head to and fro, but his face was now turned from us
so that we could not behold it. His arms were extended
over the rail, and the palms of his hands fell outward.
His knees were lodged upon a stout rope, tightly stretched,
and reaching from the heel of the bowsprit to a cathead.

394 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

On his back, from which a portion of the shirt had been
torn, leaving it bare, there sat a huge sea-gull, busily gor-
ging itself with the horrible flesh, its bill and talons deep
buried, and its white plumage spattered all over with
blood. As the brig moved farther round so as to bring
us close in view, the bird, with much apparent difficulty,
drew out its crimsoned head, and, after eying us for a mo-
ment as if stupefied, arose lazily from the body upon
which it had been feasting, and, flying directly above our
deck, hovered there a while with a portion of clotted and
liver-like substance in its beak. The horrid morsel dropped
at length with a sullen splash immediately at the feet of
Parker. May God forgive me, but now, for the first time,
there flashed through my mind a thought, a thought
which I will not mention, and I felt myself making a step
toward the ensanguined spot. I looked upward, and the
eyes of Augustus met my own with a degree of intense
and eager meaning which immediately brought me to my
senses. I sprang forward quickly, and, with a deep shud-
der, threw the frightful thing into the sea.

The body from which it had been taken, resting as it
did upon the rope, had been easily swayed to and fro by
the exertions of the carnivorous bird, and it was this
motion which had at first impressed us with the belief of
its being alive. As the gull relieved it of its weight, it
swung round and fell partially over, so that the face was
fully discovered. Never, surely, was any object so terribly
full of awe ! The eyes were gone, and the whole flesh

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 395

around the mouth, leaving the teeth utterly naked. This,
then, was the smile which had cheered us on to hope ! this
the — but I forbear. The brig, as I have already told,
passed under our stern, and made its way slowly but
steadily to leeward. With her and with her terrible crew
went all our gay visions of deliverance and joy. Deliber-
ately as she went by, we might possibly have found means
of boarding her, had not our sudden disappointment, and
the appalling nature of the discovery which accompanied
it, laid entirely prostrate every active faculty of mind and
body. We had seen and felt, but we could neither think
nor act, until, alas ! too late. How much our intellects
had been weakened by this incident may be estimated
by the fact, that when the vessel had proceeded so far
that we could perceive no more than the half of her hull,
the proposition was seriously entertained of attempting to
overtake her by swimming !

I have, since this period, vainly endeavored to obtain
some clew to the hideous uncertainty which enveloped
the fate of the stranger. Her build and general appear-
ance, as I have before stated, led us to the belief that she
was a Dutch trader, and the dresses of the crew also sus-
tained this opinion. We might have easily seen the name
upon her stern, and, indeed, taken other observations,
which would have guided us in making out her character;
but the intense excitement of the moment blinded us to
every thing of that nature. From the saffron-like hue of
such of the corpses as were not entirely decayed, we con-

396 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

eluded that the whole of her company had perished by
the yellow fever, or some other virulent disease of the
same fearful kind. If such were the case (and I know not
what else to imagine), death, to judge from the positions
of the bodies, must have come upon them in a manner
awfully sudden and overwhelming, — in a way totally dis-
tinct from that which generally characterizes even the
most deadily pestilences with which mankind are ac-
quainted. It is possible, indeed, that poison, accidentally
introduced into some of their sea-stores, may have brought
about the disaster; or that the eating some unknown
venomous species of fish, or other marine animal, or
oceanic bird, might have induced it, — but it is utterly
useless to form conjectures where all is involved, and will,
no doubt, remain for ever involved, in the most appalling
and unfathomable mystery.

CHAPTER XL

WE spent the remainder of the day in a condition of
stupid lethargy, gazing after the retreating vessel until
the darkness, hiding her from our sight, recalled us in
some measure to our senses. The pangs of hunger and
thirst then returned, absorbing all other cares and consid-
erations. Nothing, however, could be done until the
morning, and, securing ourselves as well as possible, we
endeavored to snatch a little repose. In this I succeeded
beyond my expectations, sleeping until my companions,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 397

who had not been so fortunate, aroused me at daybreak
to renew our attempts at getting up provision from the
hull.

It was now a dead calm, with the sea as smooth as I
have ever known it, — the weather warm and pleasant.
The brig was out of sight. We commenced our opera-
tions by wrenching off, with some trouble, another of the
forechains ; and having fastened both to Peters' feet, he
again made an endeavor to reach the door of the store-
room, thinking it possible that he might be able to force
it open, provided he could get at it in sufficient time ;
and this he hoped to do, as the hulk lay much more
steadily than before.

He succeeded very quickly in reaching the door, when,
loosening one of the chains from his ankle, he made every
exertion to force a passage with it, but in vain, the frame-
work of the room being far stronger than was anticipated.
He was quite exhausted with his long stay under water,
and it became absolutely necessary that some other one
of us should take his place. For this service Parker im-
mediately volunteered ; but, after making three ineffectual
efforts, found that he could never even succeed in getting
near the door. The condition of Augustus' wounded arm
rendered it useless for him to attempt going down, as he
would be unable to force the room open should he reach
it, and it accordingly now devolved upon me to exert my-
self for our common deliverance.

Peters had left one of the chains in the passage, and I

39§ NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON RYM.

found, upon plunging in, that I had not sufficient balance
to keep me firmly down. I determined, therefore, to at-
tempt no more, in my first effort, than merely to recover
the other chain. In groping along the floor of the passage
for this, I felt a hard substance, which I immediately
grasped, not having time to ascertain what it was, but re-
turning and ascending instantly to the surface. The prize
proved to be a bottle, and our joy may be conceived when
I say that it was found to be full of port-wine. Giving1
thanks to God for this timely and cheering assistance, we
immediately drew the cork with my penknife, and, each
taking a moderate sup, felt the most indescribable com-
fort from the warmth, strength, and spirits with which it
inspired us. We then carefully recorked the bottle, and,
by means of a handkerchief, swung it in such a manner
that there was no possibility of its getting broken.

Having rested a while after this fortunate discovery, I
again descended, and now recovered the chain, with which
I instantly came up. I then fastened it on and went
down for the third time, when I became fully satisfied
that no exertions whatever, in that situation, would enable
me to force open the door of the store-room. I therefore
returned in despair.

There seemed now to be no longer any room for hope, and
I could perceive in the countenances of my companions
that they had made up their minds to perish. The wine
had evidently produced in them a species of delirium,
which, perhaps, I had been prevented from feeling by the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 399

immersion I had undergone since drinking it. They
talked incoherently, and about matters unconnected with
our condition, Peters repeatedly asking me questions
about Nantucket. Augustus, too, I remember, approached
me with a serious air, and requested me to lend him a
pocket-comb, as his hair was full of fish-scales, and he
wished to get them out before going on shore. Parker
appeared somewhat less affected, and urged me to dive at
random into the cabin, and bring up any article which
might come to hand. To this I consented, and, in the
first attempt, after staying under a full minute, brought
up a small leather trunk belonging to Captain Barnard.
This was immediately opened in the faint hope that it
might contain something to eat or drink. We found
nothing, however, except a box of razors and two linen
shirts. I now went down again, and returned without
any success. As my head came above water I heard a
crash on deck, and, upon getting up, saw that my com-
panions had ungratefully taken advantage of my absence
to drink the remainder of the wine, having let the bottle
fall in the endeavor to replace it before I saw them. I
remonstrated with them on the heartlessness of their con-
duct, when Augustus burst into tears. The other two
endeavored to laugh the matter off as a joke, but I hope
never again to behold laughter of such a species : the dis-
tortion of countenance was absolutely frightful. Indeed,
it was apparent that the stimulus, in the empty state of
their stomachs, had taken instant and violent effect, and

400 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

that they were all exceedingly intoxicated. With great
difficulty I prevailed upon them to lie down, when they
fell very soon into a heavy slumber, accompanied with
loud stertorous breathing.

I now found myself, as it were, alone in the brig, and
my reflections, to be sure, were of the most fearful and
gloomy nature. No prospect offered itself to my view
but a lingering death by famine, or, at the best, by being
overwhelmed in the first gale which should spring up, for
in our present exhausted condition we could have no hope
of living through another.

The gnawing hunger which I now experienced was nearly
insupportable, and I felt myself capable of going to any
lengths in order to appease it. With my knife I cut off a
small portion of the leather trunk, and endeavored to eat
it, but found it utterly impossible to swallow a single
morsel, although I fancied that some little alleviation of
my suffering was obtained by chewing small pieces of it
and spitting them out. Toward night my companions
awoke, one by one, each in an indescribable state of weak-
ness and horror, brought on by the wine, whose fumes had
now evaporated. They shook as if with a violent ague, and
uttered the most lamentable cries for water. Their condi-
tion affected me in the most lively degree, at the same time
causing me to rejoice in the fortunate train of circum-
stances which had prevented me from indulging in the
wine, and consequently from sharing their melancholy and
most distressing sensations. Their conduct, however,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 401

gave me great uneasiness and alarm ; for it was evident
that, unless some favorable change took place, they could
afford me no assistance in providing for our common
safety. I had not yet abandoned all idea of being able to
get up something from below ; but the attempt could not
possibly be resumed until some one of them was suffi-
ciently master of himself to aid me by holding the end of
the rope while I went down. Parker appeared to be
somewhat more in possession of his senses than the others,
and I endeavored, by every means in my power, to arouse
him. Thinking that a plunge in the sea-water might have
a beneficial effect, I contrived to fasten the end of a rope
around his body, and then, leading him to the companion-
way (he remaining quite passive all the while), pushed
him in, and immediately drew him out. I had good
reason to congratulate myself upon having made this ex-
periment ; for he appeared much revived and invigorated,
and, upon getting out, asked me, in a rational manner,
why I had so served him. Having explained my object,
he expressed himself indebted to me, and said that he
felt greatly better from the immersion, afterward convers-
ing sensibly upon our situation. We then resolved to
treat Augustus and Peters in the same way, which we ,
immediately did, when they both experienced much ben-
efit from the shock. This idea of sudden immersion had
been suggested to me by reading in some medical work
the good effect of the shower-bath in a case where the
patient was suffering from mania a potu.

402 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

Finding that I could now trust my companions to hold
the end of the rope, I again made three or four plunges
into the cabin, although it was now quite dark, and a
gentle but long swell from the northward rendered the
hulk somewhat unsteady. In the course of these attempts
I succeeded in bringing up two case-knives, a three-gal-
lon jug — empty, — and a blanket, but nothing which could
serve us for food. I continued my efforts, after getting
these articles, until I was completely exhausted, but
brought up nothing else. During the night Parker and
Peters occupied themselves by turns in the same manner ;
but nothing coming to hand, we now gave up this attempt
in despair, concluding that we were exhausting ourselves
in vain.

We passed the remainder of this night in a state of the
most intense mental and bodily anguish that can possibly
be imagined. The morning of the sixteenth at length
dawned, and we looked eagerly around the horizon for
relief, but to no purpose. The sea was still smooth, with
only a long swell from the northward, as on yesterday.
This was the sixth day since we had tasted either food or
drink, with the exception of the bottle of port-wine, and
it was clear that we could hold out but a very little while
longer unless something could be obtained. I never saw
before, nor wish to see again, human beings so utterly
emaciated as Peters and Augustus. Had I met them on
shore in their present condition I should not have had the
slightest suspicion that I had ever beheld them. Their

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 403

countenances were totally changed in character, so that I
could not bring myself to believe them really the same
individuals with whom I had been in company but a few
days before. Parker, although sadly reduced, and so
feeble that he could not raise his head from his bosom,
was not so far gone as the other two. He suffered with
great patience, making no complaint, and endeavoring to
inspire us with hope in every manner he could devise.
For myself, although at the commencement of the voyage
I had been in bad health, and was at all times of a deli-
cate constitution, I suffered less than any of us, being
much less reduced in frame, and retaining my powers of
mind in a surprising degree, while the rest were com-
pletely prostrated in intellect, and seemed to be brought
to a species of second childhood, generally simpering in
their expressions, with idiotic smiles, and uttering the
most absurd platitudes. At intervals, however, they would
appear to revive suddenly, as if inspired all at once with
a consciousness of their condition, when they would spring
upon their feet in a momentary flash of vigor, and speak,
for a short period, of their prospects, in a manner alto-
gether rational, although full of the most intense despair.
It is possible, however, that my companions may have en-
tertained the same opinion of their own condition as I
did of mine, and that I may have unwittingly been guilty
of the same extravagances and imbecilities as themselves
— this is a matter which cannot be determined.

About noon Parker declared that he saw land off the

404 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

larboard quarter, and it was with the utmost difficulty I
could restrain him from plunging into the sea with the
view of swimming toward it. Peters and Augustus took
little notice of what he said, being apparently wrapped up
in moody contemplation. Upon looking in the direction
pointed out, I could not perceive the faintest appearance
of the shore — indeed, I was too well aware that we were
far from any land to indulge in a hope of that nature. It
was a long time, nevertheless, before I could convince
Parker of his mistake. He then burst into a flood of tears,
weeping like a child, with loud cries and sobs, for two or
three hours, when, becoming exhausted, he fell asleep.

Peters and Augustus now made several ineffectual efforts
to swallow portions of the leather. I advised them to
chew it and spit it out ; but they were too excessively de-
bilitated to be able to follow my advice. I continued to
chew pieces of it at intervals, and found some relief from
so doing ; my chief distress was for water, and I was only
prevented from taking a draught from the sea by remem-
bering the horrible consequences which thus have resulted
to others who were similarly situated with ourselves.

The day wore on in this manner, when I suddenly dis-
covered a sail to the eastward, and on our larboard bow.
She appeared to be a large ship, and was coming nearly
athwart us, being probably twelve or fifteen miles distant.
None of my companions had as yet discovered her, and I
forbore to tell them of her for the present, lest we might
again be disappointed of relief. At length, upon her get-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 405

ting nearer, I saw distinctly that she was heading imme-
diately for us, with her light sails filled. I could now
contain myself no longer, and pointed her out to my fel-
low-sufferers. They immediately sprang to their feet,
again indulging in the most extravagant demonstrations
of joy, weeping, laughing in an idiotic manner, jumping,
stamping upon the deck, tearing their hair, and praying
and cursing by turns. I was so affected by their conduct,
as well as by what I now considered a sure prospect of
deliverance, that I could not refrain from joining in with
their madness, and gave way to the impulses of my grati-
tude and ecstasy by lying and rolling on the deck, clapping
my hands, shouting, and other similar acts, until I was
suddenly called to my recollection, and once more to the
extreme of human misery and despair, by perceiving the
ship all at once with her stern fully presented toward us,
and steering in a direction nearly opposite to that in which
I had at first perceived her.

It was some time before I could induce my poor compan-
ions to believe that this sad reverse in our prospects had
actually taken place. They replied to all my assertions
with a stare and a gesture implying that they were not to
be deceived by such misrepresentations. The conduct of
Augustus most sensibly affected me. In spite of all I
could say or do to the contrary, he persisted in saying
that the ship was rapidly nearing us, and in making prep-
arations to go on board of her. Some sea-weed floating
by the brig, he maintained that it was the ship's boat, and

406 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

endeavored to throw himself upon it, howling and shriek-
ing in the most heart-rending manner, when I forcibly re-
strained him from thus casting himself into the sea.

Having become in some degree pacified, we continued
to watch the ship until we finally lost sight of her, the
weather becoming hazy, with a light breeze springing up.
As soon as she was entirely gone, Parker turned suddenly
toward me with an expression of countenance which made
me shudder. There was about him an air of self-posses-
sion which I had not noticed in him until now, and before
he opened his lips my heart told me what he would say.
He proposed, in a few words, that one of us should die to
preserve the existence of the others.

CHAPTER XII.

I HAD, for some time past, dwelt upon the prospect of
our being reduced to this last horrible extremity, and had
secretly made up my mind to suffer death in any shape
or under any circumstances rather than resort to such a
course. Nor was this resolution in any degree weakened
by the present intensity of hunger under which I labored.
The proposition had not been heard by either Peters or
Augustus. I therefore took Parker aside ; and mentally
praying to God for power to dissuade him from the hor-
rible purpose he entertained, I expostulated with him for
a long time, and in the most supplicating manner, begging
him in the name of every thing which he held sacred, and

NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON V YM. 407

urging him by every species of argument which the ex-
tremity of the case suggested, to abandon the idea, and
not to mention it to either of the other two.

He heard all I said without attempting to controvert
any of my arguments, and I had begun to hope that he
would be prevailed upon to do as I desired. But when I
had ceased speaking, he said that he knew very well all I
had said was true, and that to resort to such a course was
the most horrible alternative which could enter into the
mind of man ; but that he had now held out as long
as human nature could be sustained ; that it was un-
necessary for all to perish, when, by the death of one, it
was possible, and even probable, that the rest might be
finally preserved ; adding that I might save myself the
trouble of trying to turn him from his purpose, his mind
having been thoroughly made up on the subject even be-
fore the appearance of the ship, and that only her heaving
in sight had prevented him from mentioning his intention
at an earlier period.

I now begged him, if he would not be prevailed upon to
abandon his design, at least to defer it for another day,
when some vessel might come to our relief ; again reiter-
ating every argument I could devise, and which I thought
likely to have influence with one of his rough nature. He
said, in reply, that he had not spoken until the very last
possible moment, that he could exist no longer without
sustenance of some kind, and that therefore in another
day his suggestion would be too late, as regarded himself
at least.

408 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

Finding that he was not to be moved by any thing I
could say in a mild tone, I now assumed a different de-
meanor, and told him that he must be aware I had suf-
fered less than any of us from our calamities ; that my
health and strength, consequently, were at that moment
far better than his own, or than that either of Peters or
Augustus ; in short, that I was in a condition to have my
own way by force if I found it necessary ; and that if he
attempted in any manner to acquaint the others with his
bloody and cannibal designs, I would not hesitate to throw
him into the sea. Upon this he immediately seized me by
the throat, and drawing a knife, made several ineffectual
efforts to stab me in the stomach ; an atrocity which his
excessive debility alone prevented him from accomplish-
ing. In the meantime, being roused to a high pitch of
anger, I forced him to the vessel's side, with the full in-
tention of throwing him overboard. He was saved from
this fate, however, by the interference of Peters, who now
approached and separated us, asking the cause of the dis-
turbance. This Parker told before I could find means in
any manner to prevent him.

The effect of his words was even more terrible than what
I had anticipated. Both Augustus and Peters, who, it
seems, had long secretly entertained the same fearful idea
which Parker had been merely the first to broach, joined
with him in his design and insisted upon its immediately
being carried into effect. I had calculated that one at
least of the two former would be found still possessed of

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 4°9

sufficient strength of mind to side with myself in resisting
any attempt to execute so dreadful a purpose ; and, with
the aid of either one of them, I had no fear of being able to
prevent its accomplishment. Being disappointed in this
expectation, it became absolutely necessary that I should
attend to my own safety, as a further resistance on my
part might possibly be considered by men in their frightful
condition a sufficient excuse for refusing me fair play in
the tragedy that I knew would speedily be enacted.

I now told them I was willing to submit to the pro-
posal, merely requesting a delay of about one hour, in
order that the fog which had gathered around us might
have an opportunity of lifting, when it was possible that
the ship we had seen might be again in sight. After great
difficulty I obtained from them a promise to wait thus
long ; and, as I had anticipated (a breeze rapidly coming
in), the fog lifted before the hour had expired, when, no
vessel appearing in sight, we prepared to draw lots.

It is with extreme reluctance that I dwell upon the ap-
palling scene which ensued ; a scene which, with its
minutest details, no after-events have been able to efface
in the slightest degree from my memory, and whose stern
recollection will embitter every future moment of my ex-
istence. Let me run over this portion of my narrative
with as much haste as the nature of the events to be
spoken of will permit. The only method we could devise
for the terrific lottery, in which we were to take each a
chance, was that of drawing straws. Small splinters of

4IO NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

wood were made to answer our purpose, and it was agreed
that I should be the holder. I retired to one end of the
hulk, while my poor companions silently took up their
station in the other with their backs turned toward
me. The bitterest anxiety which I endured at any
period of this fearful drama was while I occupied my-
self in the arrangement of the lots. There are few con-
ditions into which man can possibly fall where he will
not feel a deep interest in the preservation of his ex-
istence ; an interest momentarily increasing with the
frailness of the tenure by which that existence may be
held. But now that the silent, definite, and stern nature
of the business in which I was engaged (so different from
the tumultuous dangers of the storm or the gradually
approaching horrors of famine) allowed me to reflect on
the few chances I had of escaping the most appalling of
deaths — a death for the most appalling of purposes —
every particle of that energy which had so long buoyed
me up departed like feathers before the wind, leaving me
a helpless prey to the most abject and pitiable terror. I
could not, at first, even summon up sufficient strength to
tear and fit together the small splinters of wood, my
fingers absolutely refusing their office, and my knees
knocking violently against each other. My mind ran
over rapidly a thousand absurd projects by which to
avoid becoming a partner in the awful speculation. I
thought of falling on my knees to my companions, and
entreating them to let me escape this necessity ; of sud-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 411

denly rushing upon them, and, by putting one of them to
death, of rendering the decision by lot useless — in short,
of every thing but of going through with the matter I
had in hand. At last, after wasting a long time in this
imbecile conduct, I was recalled to my senses by the
voice of Parker, who urged me to relieve them at once
from the terrible anxiety they were enduring. Even then
I could not bring myself to arange the splinters upon the
spot, but thought over every species of finesse by which
I could trick some one of my fellow-sufferers to draw the
short straw, as it had been agreed that whoever drew the
shortest of four splinters from my hand was to die for the
preservation of the rest. Before any one condemn me for
this apparent heartlessness, let him be placed in a situa-
tion precisely similar to my own.

At length delay was no longer possible, and, with a
heart almost bursting from my bosom, I advanced to the
region of the forecastle, where my companions were
awaiting me. I held out my hand with the splinters,
and Peters immediately drew. He was free — his, at
least, was not the shortest ; and there was now another
chance against my escape. I summoned up all my
strength, and passed the lots to Augustus. He also
drew immediately, and he also was free ; and now,
whether I should live or die, the chances were no more
than precisely even. At this moment all the fierceness
of the tiger possessed my bosom, and I felt toward my
poor fellow-creature, Parker, the most intense, the most

412 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

diabolical hatred. But the feeling did not last ; and, at
length, with a convulsive shudder and closed eyes, I held
out the two remaining splinters toward him. It was full
five minutes before he could summon resolution to draw,
during which period of heart-rending suspense I never
once opened my eyes. Presently one of the two lots was
quickly drawn from my hand. The decision was then
over, yet I knew not whether it was for me or against me.
No one spoke, and still I dared not satisfy myself by
looking at the splinter I held. Peters at length took me
by the hand, and I forced myself to look up, when I
immediately saw by the countenance of Parker that I
was safe, and that he it was who had been doomed to
suffer. Gasping for breath, I fell senseless to the deck.

I recovered from my swoon in time to behold the con-
summation of the tragedy in the death of him who had
been chiefly instrumental in bringing it about. He made
no resistance whatever, and was stabbed in the back by
Peters, when he fell instantly dead. I must not dwell
upon the fearful repast which immediately ensued. Such
things may be imagined, but words have no power to
impress the mind with the exquisite horror of their
reality. Let it suffice to say that, having in some
measure appeased the raging thirst which consumed us ,
by the blood of the victim, and having by common
consent taken off the hands, feet, and head, throwing
them together with the entrails, into the sea, we devoured
the rest of the body, piecemeal, during the four ever

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 413

memorable days of the seventeenth, eighteenth, nine-
teenth, and twentieth of the month.

On the nineteenth, there coming on a smart shower
which lasted fifteen or twenty minutes, we contrived to
catch some water by means of a sheet which had been
fished up from the cabin by our drag just after the gale.
The quantity we took in all did not amount to more than
half a gallon ; but even this scanty allowance supplied us
with comparative strength and hope.

On the twenty-first we were again reduced to the last
necessity. The weather still remained warm and pleasant,
with occasional fogs and light breezes, most usually from
N. to W.

On the twenty-second, as we were sitting close huddled
together, gloomily revolving over our lamentable con-
dition, there flashed through my mind all at once an
idea which inspired me with a bright gleam of hope.
I remembered that, when the foremast had been cut
away, Peters, being in the windward chains, passed one
of the axes into my hand, requesting me to put it, if
possible, in a place of security, and that a few minutes
before the last heavy sea struck the brig and filled her I
had taken this axe into the forecastle and laid it in one of
the larboard berths. I now thought it possible that, by
getting at this axe, we might cut through the deck over
the store-room, and thus readily supply ourselves with
provisions.

When I communicated this project to my companions,

414 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

they uttered a feeble shout of joy, and we all proceeded
forthwith to the forecastle. The difficulty of descending
here was greater than that of going down in the cabin,
the opening being much smaller, for it will be remem-
bered that the whole framework about the cabin com-
panion-hatch had been carried away, whereas the fore-
castle-way, being a simple hatch of only about three feet
square, had remained uninjured. I did not hesitate, how-
ever, to attempt the descent ; and a rope being fastened
round my body as before, I plunged boldly in, feet fore-
most, made my way quickly to the berth, and at the first
attempt brought up the axe. It was hailed with the most
ecstatic joy and triumph, and the ease with which it had
been obtained was regarded as an omen of our ultimate
preservation.

We now commenced cutting at the deck with all the
energy of rekindled hope, Peters and myself taking the
axe by turns, Augustus' wounded arm not permitting
him to aid us in any degree. As we were still so feeble
as to be scarcely able to stand unsupported, and could
consequently work but a minute or two without resting,
it soon became evident that many long hours would be
necessary to accomplish our task — that is, to cut an open-
ing sufficiently large to admit of a free access to the store-
room. This consideration, however, did not discourage
us ; and, working all night by the light of the moon, we
succeeded in effecting our purpose by daybreak on the
morning of the twenty-third.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 415

Peters now volunteered to go down ; and, having made
all arrangements as before, he descended, and soon re-
turned bringing up with him a small jar, which, to our
great joy, proved to be full of olives. Having shared these
among us, and devoured them with the greatest avidity,
we proceeded to let him down again. This time he suc-
ceeded beyond our utmost expectations, returning in-
stantly with a large ham and a bottle of Madeira wine.
Of the latter we each took a moderate sup, having learned
by experience the pernicious consequences of indulging too
freely. The ham, except about two pounds near the bone,
was not in a condition to be eaten, having been entirely
spoiled by the salt water. The sound part was divided
among us. Peters and Augustus, not being able to re-
strain their appetite, swallowed theirs upon the instant ; but
I was more cautious, and ate but a small portion of mine,
dreading the thirst which I knew would ensue. We now
rested a while from our labors, which had been intolerably
severe.

By noon, feeling somewhat strengthened and refreshed,
we again renewed our attempt at getting up provision,
Peters and myself going down alternately, and always
with more or less success, until sundown. During this
interval we had the good fortune to bring up, altogether,
four more small jars of olives, another ham, a carboy con-
taining nearly three gallons of excellent Cape Madeira
wine, and, what gave us still more delight, a small tortoise
of the Gallipago breed, several of which had been taken

41 6 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

on board by Captain Barnard, as the Grampus was leaving
port, from the schooner Mary Pitts, just returned from a
sealing voyage in the Pacific.

In a subsequent portion of this narrative I shall have
frequent occasion to mention this species of tortoise. It is
found principally, as most of my readers may know, in
the group of islands called the Gallipagos, which, indeed,
derive their name from the animal — the Spanish word
Gallipago meaning a fresh-water terrapin. From the
peculiarity of their shape and action they have been some-
times called the elephant tortoise. They are frequently
found of an enormous size. I have myself seen several
which would weigh from twelve to fifteen hundred pounds,
although I do not remember that any navigator speaks
of having seen them weighing more than eight hundred.
Their appearance is singular, and even disgusting. Their
steps are very slow, measured, and heavy, their bodies
being carried about a foot from the ground. Their neck
is long, and exceedingly slender ; from eighteen inches to
two feet is a very common length, and I killed one, where
the distance from the shoulder to the extremity of the
head was no less than three feet ten inches. The head
has a striking resemblance to that of a serpent. They can
exist without food for an almost incredible length of time,
instances having been known where they have been thrown
into the hold of a vessel and lain two years without
nourishment of any kind — being as fat, and, in every re-
spect, in as good order at the expiration of the time as

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 417

when they were first put in. In one particular these
extraordinary animals bear a resemblance to the drome-
dary, or camel of the desert. In a bag at the root of the
neck they carry with them a constant supply of water. In
some instances, upon killing them after a full year's depri-
vation of all nourishment, as much as three gallons of per-
fectly sweet and fresh water have been found in their
bags. Their food is chiefly wild parsley and celery, with
purslain, sea-kelp, and prickly-pears, upon which latter
vegetable they thrive wonderfully, a great quantity of it
being usually found on the hillsides near the shore wher-
ever the animal itself is discovered. They are excellent
and highly nutritious food, and have, no doubt, been the
means of preserving the lives of thousands of seamen em-
ployed in the whale-fishery and other pursuits in the
Pacific.

The one which we had the good fortune to bring up
from the store-room was not of a large size, weighing
probably sixty-five or seventy pounds. It was a female,
and in excellent condition, being exceedingly fat, and hav-
ing more than a quart of limpid and sweet water in its
bag. This was indeed a treasure ; and, falling on our
knees with one accord, we returned fervent thanks to
God for so seasonable a relief.

We had great difficulty in getting the animal up
through the opening, as its struggles were fierce and its
strength prodigious. It was upon the point of making
its escape from Peters' grasp, and slipping back into the

41 8 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

water, when Augustus, throwing a rope with a slip-knot
around its throat, held it up in this manner until I jumped
into the hole by the side of Peters, and assisted him in
lifting it out.

The water we drew carefully from the bag into the jug,
which, it will be remembered, had been brought up before
from the cabin. Having done this, we broke off the neck
of a bottle so as to form, with the cork, a kind of glass,
holding not quite half a gill. We then each drank one of
these measures full, and resolved to limit ourselves to this
quantity per day as long as it should hold out.

During the last two or three days, the weather having
been dry and pleasant, the bedding we had obtained from
the cabin, as well as our clothing, had become thoroughly
dry, so that we passed this night (that of the twenty-third)
in comparative comfort, enjoying a tranquil repose, after
having supped plentifully on olives and ham, with a small
allowance of the wine. Being afraid of losing some of
our stores overboard during the night, in the event of a
breeze springing up, we secured them as well as possible
with cordage to the fragments of the windlass. Our tor-
toise, which we were anxious to preserve alive as long as
we could, we threw on his back, and otherwise carefully
fastened.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 419

CHAPTER XIII.

JULY 24TH. — This morning saw us wonderfully recruited
in spirits and strength. Notwithstanding the perilous
situation in which we were still placed, ignorant of our
position, although certainly at a great distance from land,
without more food than would last us for a fortnight even
with great care, almost entirely without water, and float-
ing about at the mercy of every wind and wave on the
merest wreck in the world, still the infinitely more terrible
distresses and dangers from which we had so lately and
so providentially been delivered caused us to regard what
we now endured as but little more than an ordinary evil
— so strictly comparative is either good or ill.

At sunrise we were preparing to renew our attempts at
getting up something from the store-room, when, a smart
shower coming on, with some lightning, we turned our
attention to the catching of water by means of the sheet
we had used before for this purpose. We had no other
means of collecting the rain than by holding the sheet
spread out with one of the forechain-plates in the middle
of it. The water, thus conducted to the centre, was
drained through into our jug. We had nearly filled it in
this manner, when, a heavy squall coming on from the
northward, obliged us to desist, as the hulk began once
more to roll so violently that we could no longer keep
our feet. We now went forward, and, lashing ourselves
securely to the remnant of the windlass as before, awaited
the event with far more calmness than could have been

420 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

anticipated or would have been imagined possible under
the circumstances. At noon the wind had freshened into
a two-reef breeze, and by night into a stiff gale, accom-
panied with a tremendously heavy swell. Experience
having taught us, however, the best method of arranging
our lashings, we weathered this dreary night in tolerable
security, although thoroughly drenched at almost every
instant by the sea, and in momentary dread of being
washed off. Fortunately, the weather was so warm as to
render the water rather grateful than otherwise.

July 25th. — This morning the gale had diminished to a
mere ten-knot breeze, and the sea had gone down with it
so considerably that we were able to keep ourselves dry
upon the deck. To our great grief, however, we found
that two jars of our olives, as well as the whole of our
ham, had been washed overboard, in spite of the careful
manner in which they had been fastened. We deter-
mined not to kill the tortoise as yet, and contented our-
selves for the present with a breakfast on a few of the
olives, and a measure of water each, which latter we
mixed, half and half, with wine, finding great relief and
strength from the mixture, without the distressing intoxi-
cation which had ensued upon drinking the port. The sea
was still far too rough for the renewal of our efforts at
getting up provision from the store-room. Several
articles, of no importance to us in our present situation,
floated up through the opening during the day, and were
immediately washed overboard. We also now observed

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 42 1

that the hulk lay more along than ever, so that we could
not stand an instant without lashing ourselves. On this
account we passed a gloomy and uncomfortable day. At
noon the sun appeared to be nearly vertical, and we had
no doubt that we had been driven down by the long suc-
cession of northward and northwesterly winds into the
near vicinity of the equator. Toward evening saw several
sharks, and were somewhat alarmed by the audacious
manner in which an enormously large one approached us.
At one time, a lurch throwing the deck very far beneath
the water, the monster actually swam in upon us, flounder-
ing for some moments just over the companion-hatch, and
striking Peters violently with his tail. A heavy sea at
length hurled him overboard, much to our relief. In
moderate weather we might have easily captured him.

July 26th. — This morning, the wind having greatly
abated, and the sea not being very rough, we determined to
renew our exertions in the store-room. After a great deal of
hard labor during the whole day, we found that nothing
further was to be expected from this quarter, the parti-
tions of the room having been stove during the night, and
its contents swept into the hold. This discovery, as may
be supposed, filled us with despair.

July 27th. — The sea nearly smooth, with a light wind, and
still from the northward and westward. The sun coming
out hotly in the afternoon, we occupied ourselves in drying
our clothes. Found great relief from thirst, and much
comfort otherwise, by bathing in the sea ; in this, how-

422 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

ever, we were forced to use great caution, being afraid of
sharks, several of which were seen swimming around the
brig during the day.

July 2&tk. — Good weather still. The brig now began to
lie along so alarmingly that we feared she would eventu-
ally roll bottom up. Prepared ourselves as well as we
could for this emergency, lashing our tortoise, water-jug,
and two remaining jars of olives as far as possible over to
the windward, placing them outside the hull, below the
main-chains. The sea very smooth all day, with little or
no wind.

July 2Qth. — A continuance of the same weather. Augus-
tus' wounded arm began to evince symptoms of mortifi-
cation. He complained of drowsiness and excessive
thirst, but no acute pain. Nothing could be done for his
relief beyond rubbing his wounds with a little of the
vinegar from the olives, and from this no benefit seemed
to be experienced. We did every thing in our power for
his comfort, and trebled his allowance of water.

July 30th. — An excessively hot day, with no wind. An
enormous shark kept close by the hulk during the whole
of the forenoon. We made several unsuccessful attempts
to capture him by means of a noose. Augustus much
worse, and evidently sinking as much from want of proper
nourishment as from the effect of his wounds. He con-
stantly prayed to be released from his sufferings, wishing
for nothing but death. This evening we ate the last of
our olives, and found the water in our jug so putrid that

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. A2%

we could not swallow it at all without the addition of
wine. Determined to kill our tortoise in the morning.

July list. — After a night of excessive anxiety and fatigue,
owing to the position of the hulk, we set about killing and
cutting up our tortoise. He proved to be much smaller
than we had supposed, although in good condition, — the
whole meat about him not amounting to more than ten
pounds. With a view of preserving a portion of this as
long as possible, we cut it into fine pieces, and filled with
them our three remaining olive-jars and the wine-bottle
(all of which had been kept), pouring in afterward the
vinegar from the olives. In this manner we put away
about three pounds of the tortoise, intending not to touch
it until we had consumed the rest. We concluded to re-
strict ourselves to about four ounces of the meat per day ;
the whole would thus last us thirteen days. A brisk
shower, with severe thunder and lightning, came on about
dusk, but lasted so short a time that we only succeeded
in catching about half a pint of water. The whole of
this, by common consent, was given to Augustus, who
now appeared to be in the last extremity. He drank the
water from the sheet as we caught it (we holding it above
him as he lay so as to let it run into his mouth), for we
had now nothing left capable of holding water, unless we
had chosen to empty out our wine from the carboy, or
the stale water from the jug. Either of these expedients
would have been resorted to had the shower lasted.

The sufferer seemed to derive but little benefit from

424 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

the draught. His arm was completely black from the
wrist to the shoulder, and his feet were like ice. We ex-
pected every moment to see him breathe his last. He
was frightfully emaciated ; so much so that, although he
weighed a hundred and twenty-seven pounds upon his
leaving Nantucket, he now did not weigh more than forty
or fifty at the fartJiest. His eyes were sunk far in his
head, being scarcely perceptible, and the skin of his cheeks
hung so loosely as to prevent his masticating any food, or
even swallowing any liquid, without great difficulty.

August 1st. — A continuance of the same calm weather,
with an oppressively hot sun. Suffered exceedingly from
thirst, the water in the jug being absolutely putrid and
swarming with vermin. We contrived, nevertheless, to swal-
low a portion of it by mixing it with wine ; our thirst, how-
ever, was but little abated. We found more relief by bathing
in the sea, but could not avail ourselves of this expedient
except at long intervals, on account of the continual pres-
ence of sharks. We now saw clearly that Augustus could
not be saved, — that he was evidently dying. We could
do nothing to relieve his sufferings, which appeared to be
great. About twelve o'clock he expired in strong con-
vulsions, and without having spoken for several hours.
His death filled us with the most gloomy forebodings,
and had so great an effect upon our spirits that we sat
motionless by the corpse during the whole day, and never
addressed each other except in a whisper. It was not
until some time after dark that we took courage to get up

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 425

and throw the body overboard. It was then loathsome
beyond expression, and so far decayed that, as Peters at-
tempted to lift it, an entire leg came off in his grasp. As
the mass of putrefaction slipped over the vessel's side into
the water, the glare of phosphoric light with which it was
surrounded plainly discovered to us seven or eight large
.sharks, the clashing of whose horrible teeth, as their prey
was torn to pieces among them, might have been heard
at the distance of a mile. We shrunk within ourselves in
the extremity of horror at the sound.

August 2d. — The same fearfully calm and hot weather.
The dawn found us in a state of pitiable dejection as
well as bodily exhaustion. The water in the jug was
now absolutely useless, being a thick gelatinous mass, —
nothing but frightful-looking worms mingled with slime.
We threw it out, and washed the jug well in the sea,
afterward pouring a little vinegar in it from our
bottles of pickled tortoise. Our thirst could now
scarcely be endured, and we tried in vain to relieve it by
wine, which seemed only to add fuel to the flame, and
excited us to a high degree of intoxication. We after-
ward endeavored to relieve our sufferings by mixing the
wine with sea-water ; but this instantly brought about the
most violent retchings, so that we never again attempted
it. During the whole day we anxiously sought an oppor-
tunity of bathing, but to no purpose ; for the hulk was
now entirely besieged on all sides with sharks— no doubt
the identical monsters who had devoured our poor com-

426 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

panion on the evening before, and who were in momentary
expectation of another similar feast. This circumstance
occasioned us the most bitter regret, and filled us with
the most depressing and melancholy forebodings. We
had experienced indescribable relief in bathing, and to
have this resource cut off in so frightful a manner was
more than we could bear. Nor, indeed, were we alto-
gether free from the apprehension of immediate danger,
for the least slip or false movement would have thrown us
at once within reach of those voracious fish, who frequently
thrust themselves directly upon us, swimming up to lee-
ward. No shouts or exertions on our part seemed to
alarm them. Even when one of the largest was struck
with an axe by Peters and much wounded, he persisted
in his attempts to push in where we were.. A cloud came
up at dusk, but, to our extreme anguish, passed over
without discharging itself. It is quite impossible to con-
ceive our sufferings from thirst at this period. We passed
a sleepless night, both on this account and through dread
of the sharks.

August ^d. — No prospect of relief, and the brig lying still
more and more along, so that now we could not maintain
a footing upon deck at all. Busied ourselves in securing
our wine and tortoise-meat, so that we might not lose
them in the event of our rolling over. Got out two stout
spikes from the forechains, and, by means of the axe,
drove them into the hull to windward within a couple of
feet of the water ; this not being very far from the keel,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON RYM. 427

as we were nearly upon our beam-ends. To these spikes
we now lashed our provisions, as being more secure than
their former position beneath the chains. Suffered great
agony from thirst during the whole day — no chance of
bathing on account of the sharks, which never left us for
a moment. Found it impossible to sleep.

August 4th. — A little before daybreak we perceived that
the hulk was heeling over, and aroused ourselves to pre-
vent being thrown off by the movement. At first the roll
was slow and gradual, and we contrived to clamber over
to windward very well, having taken the precaution to
leave ropes hanging from the spikes we had driven in for
the provision. But we had not calculated sufficiently
upon the acceleration of the impetus ; for, presently the
heel became too violent to allow of our keeping pace with
it ; and, before either of us knew what was to happen, we
found ourselves hurled furiously into the sea, and strug-
gling several fathoms beneath the surface, with the huge
hull immediately above us.

In going under the water I had been obliged to let go
my hold upon the rope ; and finding that I was completely
beneath the vessel, and my strength nearly exhausted, I
scarcely made a struggle for life, and resigned myself, in a
few seconds, to die. But here again I was deceived, not
having taken into consideration the natural rebound of
the hull to windward. The whirl of the water upward,
which the vessel occasioned in rolling partially back,
brought me to the surface still more violently than I had

428 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

been plunged beneath. Upon coming up I found myself
about twenty yards from the hulk, as near as I could
judge. She was lying keel up, rocking furiously from side
to side, and the sea in all directions around was much
agitated, and full of strong whirlpools. I could see noth-
ing of Peters. An oil-cask was floating within a few feet
of me, and various other articles from the brig were scat-
tered about.

My principal terror was now on account of the sharks,
which I knew to be in my vicinity. In order to deter
these, if possible, from approaching me, I splashed the
water vigorously with both hands and feet as I swam
toward the hulk, creating a body of foam. I have no
doubt that to this expedient, simple as it was, I was in-
debted for my preservation ; for the sea all round the
brig, just before her rolling over, was so crowded with
these monsters, that I must have been, and really was, in
actual contact with some of them during my progress.
By great good fortune, however, I reached the side of the
vessel in safety, although so utterly weakened by the
violent exertion I had used that I should never have been
able to get upon it but for the timely assistance of Peters,
who, now, to my great joy, made his appearance (having
scrambled up to the keel from the opposite side of the
hull), and threw me the end of a rope — one of those which
had been attached to the spikes.

Having barely escaped this danger, our attention was
now directed to the dreadful imminency of another — that

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 429

of absolute starvation. Our whole stock of provision had
been swept overboard in spite of all our care in securing
it ; and seeing no longer the remotest possibility of ob-
taining more, we gave way both of us to despair, weeping
aloud like children, and neither of us attempting to offer
consolation to the other. Such weakness can scarcely be
conceived, and to those who have never been similarly
situated will, no doubt, appear unnatural ; but it must be
remembered that our intellects were so entirely disordered
by the long course of privation and terror to which we
had been subjected, that we could not justly be con-
sidered, at that period, in the light of rational beings. In
subsequent perils, nearly as great, if not greater, I bore
up with fortitude against all the evils of my situation,
and Peters, it will be seen, evinced a stoical philosophy
nearly as incredible as his present childlike supineness and
imbecility — the mental condition made the difference.

The overturning of the brig, even with the consequent
loss of the wine and turtle, would not, in fact, have ren-
dered our situation more deplorable than before, except
for the disappearance of the bedclothes by which we had
been hitherto enabled to catch rain-water, and of the jug
in which we had kept it when caught ; for we found the
whole bottom, from within two or three feet of the bends
as far as the keel, together with the keel itself, thickly
covered with large barnacles, which proved to be excellent
and highly nutritious food. Thus, in two important re-
spects, the accident we had so greatly dreaded proved a

430 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

benefit rather than an injury ; it had opened to us a
supply of provisions which we could not have exhausted,
using it moderately, in a month ; and it had greatly con-
tributed to our comfort as regards position, we being
much more at our ease, and in infinitely less danger, than
before.

The difficulty, however, of now obtaining water blinded
us to all the benefits of the change in our condition.
That we might be ready to avail ourselves, as far as pos-
sible, of any shower which might fall, we took off our
shirts, to make use of them as we had of the sheets — not
hoping, of course, to get more in this way, even under
the most favorable circumstances, than half a gill at a
time. No signs of a cloud appeared during the day, and
the agonies of our thirst were nearly intolerable. At
night, Peters obtained about an hour's disturbed sleep,
but my intense sufferings would not permit me to close
my eyes for a single moment.

August $th. — To-day, a gentle breeze springing up carried
us through a vast quantity of sea-weed, among which we
were so fortunate as to find eleven small crabs, which
afforded us several delicious meals. Their shells being
quite soft, we ate them entire, and found that they ir-
ritated our thirst far less than the barnacles. Seeing no
trace of sharks among the sea-weed, we also ventured to
bathe, and remained in the water for four or five hours,
during which we experienced a very sensible diminution
of our thirst. Were greatly refreshed, and spent the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 43 I

night somewhat more comfortably than before, both of us
snatching a little sleep.

August 6th. — This day we were blessed by a brisk and
continual rain, lasting from about noon until after dark.
Bitterly did we now regret the loss of our jug and car-
boy ; for, in spite of the little means we had of catching
the water, we might have filled one, if not both of them.
As it was, we contrived to satisfy the cravings of thirst
by suffering the shirts to become saturated, and then
wringing them so as to let the grateful fluid trickle
into our mouths. In this occupation we passed the
entire day.

August jth. — Just at daybreak we both at the same in-
stant descried a sail to the eastward, and evidently coming
toivard us ! We hailed the glorious sight with a long,
although feeble shout of rapture ; and began instantly to
make every signal in our power, by flaring the shirts in
the air, leaping as high as our weak condition would per-
mit, and even by hallooing with all the strength of our
lungs, although the vessel could not have been less than
fifteen miles distant. However, she still continued to
near our hulk, and we felt that, if she but held her present
course, she must eventually come so close as to perceive
us. In about an hour after we first discovered her, we
could clearly see the people on her decks. She was a
long, low,- and rakish-looking topsail schooner, with a
black ball in her foretopsail, and had, apparently, a full
crew. We now became alarmed, for we could hardly im-

432 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

agine it possible that she did not observe us, and were
apprehensive that she meant to leave us to perish as we
were — an act of fiendish barbarity, which, however in-
credible it may appear, has been repeatedly perpetrated
at sea, under circumstances very nearly similar, and by
beings who were regarded as belonging to the human
species.* In this instance, however, by the mercy of God,
we were destined to be most happily deceived ; for, pres-
ently we were aware of a sudden commotion on the deck
of the stranger, who immediately afterward ran up a

* The case of the brig Polly, of Boston, is one so much in point, and her
fate, in many respects, so remarkably similar to our own, that I cannot for-
bear alluding to it here. This vessel, of one hundred and thirty tons burden,
sailed from Boston, with a cargo of lumber and provisions, for Santa Croix,
on the 1 2th of December, 1811, under the command of Captain Casneau.
There were eight souls on board besides the captain — the mate, four sea-
men, and the cook, together with a Mr. Hunt, and a negro girl belonging
to him. On the fifteenth, having cleared the shoal of Georges, she sprung
a leak in a gale of wind from the southeast, and was finally capsized ; but,
the masts going by the board, she afterward righted. They remained in this
situation, without fire, and with very little provision, for the period of one
hundred and ninety-one days (from December the fifteenth to June the
twentieth), when Captain Casneau and Samuel Badger, the only survivors,
were taken off the wreck by the Fame, of Hull, Captain Featherstone,
bound home from Rio Janeiro. When picked up, they were in latitude 280
N., longitude 130 W., having drifted above two thousand miles ! On the
ninth of July the Fame fell in with the brig Dromeo, Captain Perkins, who
landed the two sufferers in Kennebeck. The narrative from which we
gather these details ends in the following words :

"It is natural to inquire how they could float such a vast distance, upon
the most frequented part of the Atlantic, and not be discovered all this
time. They were passed by more than a dozen sail, one of which came so nigh
them that they could distinctly see the people on deck and oti the rigging look-
ing at them ; but, to the inexpressible disappointment of the starving and
freezing men, they stifled the dictates of compassion, hoisted sail, and cruelly
abandoned them to their fate ."

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 433

British flag, and, hauling her wind, bore up directly upon
us. In half an hour more we found ourselves in her
cabin. She proved to be the Jane Guy, of Liverpool,
Captain Guy, bound on a sealing and trading voyage to
the South Seas and Pacific.

CHAPTER XIV.

The Jane Guy was a fine-looking topsail schooner of a
hundred and eighty tons burden. She was unusually
sharp in the bows, and on a wind, in moderate weather,
the fastest sailer I have ever seen. Her qualities, how-
ever, as a rough sea-boat, were not so good, and her
draught of water was by far too great for the trade to
which she was destined. For this peculiar service, a larger
vessel, and one of a light proportionate draught, is desirable
— say a vessel of from three hundred to three hundred
and fifty tons. She should be bark-rigged, and in other
respects of a different construction from the usual South
Sea ships. It is absolutely necessary that she should be
well armed. She should have, say ten or twelve twelve-
pound carronades, and two or three long twelves, with
brass blunderbusses, and water-tight arm-chests for each
top. Her anchors and cables should be of far greater
strength than is required for any other species of trade,
and, above all, her crew should be numerous and efficient
— not less, for such a vessel as I have described, than fifty
or sixty able-bodied men. The Jane Guy had a crew of

434 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

thirty-five, all able seamen, besides the captain and mate,
but she was not altogether as well armed or otherwise
equipped, as a navigator acquainted with the difficulties
and dangers of the trade could have desired.

Captain Guy was a gentleman of great urbanity of man-
ner, and of considerable experience in the southern traffic,
to which he had devoted the greater portion of his life. He
was deficient, however, in energy, and, consequently, in
that spirit of enterprise which is here so absolutely requi-
site. He was part owner of the vessel in which he sailed,
and was invested with discretionary powers to cruise in
the South Seas for any cargo which might come most
readily to hand. He had on board, as usual in such voy-
ages, beads, looking-glasses, tinder-works, axes, hatchets,
saws, adzes, planes, chisels, gouges, gimlets, files, spoke-
shaves, rasps, hammers, nails, knives, scissors, razors,
needles, thread, crockery-ware, calico, trinkets, and other
similar articles.

The schooner sailed from Liverpool on the tenth of
July, crossed the tropic of Cancer on the twenty-fifth, in
longitude twenty degrees west, and reached Sal, one of
the Cape Verd islands, on the twenty-ninth, where she
took in salt and other necessaries for the voyage. On the
third of August, she left the Cape Verds and steered
southwest, stretching over toward the coast of Brazil, so
as to cross the equator between the meridians of twenty-
eight and thirty degrees west longitude. This is the
course usually taken by vessels bound from Europe to the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 435

Cape of Good Hope, or by that route to the East Indies.
By proceeding thus they avoid the calms and strong
contrary currents which continually prevail on the coast
of Guinea, while, in the end, it is found to be the shortest
track, as westerly winds are never wanting afterward by
which to reach the Cape. It was Captain Guy's intention
to make his first stoppage at Kerguelen's Land — I hardly
know for what reason. On the day we were picked up
the schooner was off Cape St. Roque, in longitude thirty-
one degrees west ; so that, when found, we had drifted
probably, from north to south, not less than five-and-
twenty degrees !

On board the Jane Guy we were treated with all the
kindness our distressed situation demanded. In about a
fortnight, during which time we continued steering to the
southeast, with gentle breezes and fine weather, both
Peters and myself recovered entirely from the effects of
our late privation and dreadful suffering, and we began to
remember what had passed rather as a frightful dream
from which we had been happily awakened, than as events
which had taken place in sober and naked reality. I
have since found that this species of partial oblivion is
usually brought about by sudden transition, whether from
joy to sorrow or from sorrow to joy — the degree of forget-
fulness being proportioned to the degree of difference in
the exchange. Thus, in my own case, I now feel it im-
possible to realize the full extent of the misery which I
endured during the days spent upon the hulk. The inci-

436 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

dents are remembered, but not the feelings which the in-
cidents elicited at the time of their occurrence. I only
know, that when they did occur, I then thought human
nature could sustain nothing more of agony.

We continued our voyage for some weeks without any
incidents of greater moment than the occasional meeting
with whaling-ships, and more frequently with the black
or right whale, so called in contradistinction to the sper-
maceti. These, however, were chiefly found south of the
twenty-fifth parallel. On the sixteenth of September,
being in the vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope, the
schooner encountered her first gale of any violence since
leaving Liverpool. In this neighborhood, but more fre-
quently to the south and east of the promontory (we were
to the westward), navigators have often to contend with
storms from the northward, which rage with great fury.
They always bring with them a heavy sea, and one of their
most dangerous features is the instantaneous chopping
round of the wind, an occurrence almost certain to take
place during the greatest force of the gale. A perfect
hurricane will be blowing at one moment from the north-
ward or northeast, and in the next not a breath of wind
will be felt in that direction, while from the southwest it
will come out all at once with a violence almost incon-
ceivable. A bright spot to the southward is the sure fore-
runner of the change, and vessels are thus enabled to take
the proper precautions.

It was about six in the morning when the blow came

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 437

on with a white squall, and, as usual, from the northward.
By eight it had increased very much, and brought down
upon us one of the most tremendous seas I had then ever
beheld. Every thing had been made as snug as possible,
but the schooner labored excessively, and gave evidence
of her bad qualities as a sea-boat, pitching her forecastle
under at every plunge, and with the greatest difficulty
struggling up from one wave before she was buried in
another. Just before sunset the bright spot for which we
had been on the look-out made its appearance in the south-
west, and in an hour afterward we perceived the little
head-sail we carried flapping listlessly against the mast.
In two minutes more, in spite of every preparation, we
were hurled on our beam-ends, as if by magic, and a per-
fect wilderness of foam made a clear breach over us as we
lay. The blow from the southwest, however, luckily
proved to be nothing more than a squall, and we had the
good fortune to right the vessel without the loss of a
spar. A heavy cross sea gave us great trouble for a few
hours after this, but toward morning we found ourselves
in nearly as good condition as before the gale. Captain
Guy considered that he had made an escape little less than
miraculous.

On the thirteenth of October we came in sight of
Prince Edward's Island, in latitude 460 53' S., longitude
370 46' E. Two days afterward we found ourselves near
Possession Island, and presently passed the islands of
Crozet, in latitude 420 59/ S., longitude 480 E. On the

43 8 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

eighteenth we made Kerguelen's or Desolation Island, in
the Southern Indian Ocean, and came to anchor in
Christmas Harbor, having four fathoms of water.

This island, or rather group of islands, bears southeast
from the Cape of Good Hope, and is distant therefrom
nearly eight hundred leagues. It was first discovered in
1772, by the Baron de Kergulen, or Kerguelen, a French-
man, who, thinking the land to form a portion of an ex-
tensive southern continent, carried home information to
that effect, which produced much excitement at the time.
The government, taking the matter up, sent the baron
back in the following year for the purpose of giving
his new discovery a critical examination, when the mis-
take was discovered. In 1777, Captain Cook fell in with
the same group, and gave to the principal one the name
of Desolation Island, a title which it certainly well de-
serves. Upon approaching the land, however, the
navigator might be induced to suppose otherwise, as the
sides of most of the hills, from September to March,
are clothed with very brilliant verdure. This deceitful
appearance is caused by a small plant resembling saxi-
frage, which is abundant, growing in large patches on
a species of crumbling moss. Besides this plant there is
scarcely a sign of vegetation on the island, if we except
some coarse rank grass near the harbor, some lichen, and
a shrub which bears resemblance to a cabbage shooting
into seed, and which has a bitter and acrid taste.

The face of the country is hilly, although none of the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. . 439

hills can be called lofty. Their tops are perpetually
covered with snow. There are several harbors, of which
Christmas Harbor is the most convenient. It is the first
to be met with on the northeast side of the island after
passing Cape Francois, which forms the northern shore,
and, by its peculiar shape, serves to distinguish the harbor.
Its projecting point terminates in a high rock, through
which is a large hole, forming a natural arch. The
entrance is in latitude 480 40' S., longitude 690 6' E.
Passing in here, good anchorage may be found under the
shelter of several small islands, which form a sufficient
protection from all easterly winds, Proceeding on east-
wardly from this anchorage you come to Wasp Bay, at the
head of the harbor. This is a small basin, completely
landlocked, into which you can go with four fathoms, and
find anchorage in from ten to three, hard clay bottom.
A ship might lie here with her best bower ahead all
the year round without risk. To the westward, at the
head of Wasp Bay, is a small stream of excellent water,
easily procured.

Some seal of the fur and hair species are still to be
found on Kerguelen's Island, and sea-elephants abound.
The feathered tribes are discovered in great numbers.
Penguins are very plenty, and of these there are four
different kinds. The royal penguin, so called from its size
and beautiful plumage, is the largest. The upper part of
the body is usually gray, sometimes of a lilac tint ; the
under portion of the purest white imaginable. The head

440 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

is of a glossy and most brilliant black, the feet also. The
chief beauty of the plumage, however, consists in two
broad stripes of a gold color, which pass along from
the head to the breast. The bill is long, and either pink
or bright scarlet. These birds walk erect, with a stately
carriage. They carry their heads high with their wings
drooping like two arms, and, as their tails project from
their body in a line with the legs, the resemblance to
a human figure is very striking, and would be apt to
deceive the spectator at a casual glance or in the gloom of
the evening. The royal penguins which we met with
on Kerguelen's Land were rather larger than a goose.
The other kinds are the maccaroni, the jackass, and
the rookery penguin. These are much smaller, less beau-
tiful in plumage, and different in other respects.

Besides the penguin many other birds are here to be
found, among which may be mentioned sea-hens, blue
peterels, teal, ducks, Port Egmont hens, shags, Cape
pigeons, the nelly, sea-swallows, terns, sea-gulls, Mother
Carey's chickens, Mother Carey's geese, or the great
peterel, and, lastly, the albatross.

The great peterel is as large as the common albatross,
and is carnivorous. It is frequently called the break-bones,
or osprey peterel. They are not at all shy, and, when
properly cooked, are palatable food. In flying they some-
times sail very close to the surface of the water, with the
wings expanded, without appearing to move them in the
least degree, or make any exertion with them whatever.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 44 1

The albatross is one of the largest and fiercest of the
South Sea birds. It is of the gull species, and takes its
prey on the wing, never coming on land except for the
purpose of breeding. Between this bird and the penguin
the most singular friendship exists. Their nests are con-
structed with great uniformity upon a plan concerted
between the two species — that of the albatross being
placed in the centre of a little square formed by the nests
of four penguins. Navigators have agreed in calling an
assemblage of such encampments a rookery. These rook-
eries have been often described, but as my readers may
not all have seen these descriptions, and as I shall have
occasion hereafter to speak of the penguin and albatross,
it will not be amiss to say something here of their mode
of building and living,

When the season for incubation arrives, the birds as-
semble in vast numbers, and for some days appear to be
deliberating upon the proper course to be pursued. At
length they proceed to action. A level piece of ground
is selected, of suitable extent, usually comprising three or
four acres, and situated as near the sea as possible, being
still beyond its reach. The spot is chosen with reference
to its evenness of surface, and that is preferred which is the
least encumbered with stones. This matter being ar-
ranged, the birds proceed, with one accord, and actuated
apparently by one mind, to trace out, with mathematical
accuracy, either a square or other parallelogram, as may
best suit the nature of the ground, and of just sufficient

442 NARRATIVE OF A. CORDON PYM.

size to accommodate easily all the birds assembled, and
no more — in this particular seeming determined upon
preventing the access of future stragglers who have not
participated in the labor of the encampment. One side
of the place thus marked out runs parallel with the water's
edge, and is left open for ingress or egress.

Having defined the limits of the rookery, the colony
now begin to clear it of every species of rubbish, picking
up stone by stone, and carrying them outside of the lines,
and close by them, so as to form a wall on the three in-
land sides. Just within this wall a perfectly level and
smooth walk is formed, from six to eight feet wide, and
extending around the encampment — thus serving the
purpose of a general promenade.

The next process is to partition out the whole area into
small squares exactly equal in size. This is done by
forming narrow paths, very smooth, and crossing each
other at right angles throughout the entire extent of the
rookery. At each intersection, of these paths the nest of
an albatross is constructed, and a penguin's nest in the
centre of each square — thus every penguin is surrounded
by four albatrosses, and each albatross by a like number
of penguins. The penguin's nest consists of a hole in the
earth, very shallow, being only just of sufTicient depth to
keep her single egg from rolling. The albatross is some-
what less simple in her arrangements, erecting a hillock
about a foot high and two in diameter. This is made of
earth, seaweed, and shells. On its summit she builds her
nest.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 443

The birds take especial care never to leave their nests
unoccupied for an instant during the period of incubation,
or, indeed, until the young progeny are sufficiently strong
to take care of themselves. While the male is absent at
sea in search of food, the female remains on duty, and it
is only upon the return of her partner that she ventures
abroad. The eggs are never left uncovered at all — while
one bird leaves the nest the other nestling in by its side.
This precaution is rendered necessary by the thievish
propensities prevalent in the rookery, the inhabitants
making no scruple to purloin each other's eggs at every
good opportunity.

Although there are some rookeries in which the pen-
guin and albatross are the sole population, yet in most
of them a variety of oceanic birds are to be met with, en-
joying all the privileges of citizenship, and scattering their
nests here and there, wherever they can find room, never
interfering, however, with the stations of the larger
species. The appearance of such encampments, when
seen from a distance, is exceedingly singular. The whole
atmosphere just above the settlement is darkened with
the immense number of the albatross (mingled with the
smaller tribes) which are continually hovering over it,
either going to the ocean or returning home. At the
same time a crowd of penguins are to be observed, some
passing to and fro in the narrow alleys, and some march-
ing with the military strut so peculiar to them, around
the general promenade-ground which encircles the rookery.

444 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

In short, survey it as we will, nothing can be more aston-
ishing than the spirit of reflection evinced by these
feathered beings, and nothing surely can be better calcu-
lated to elicit reflection in every well-regulated human
intellect.

On the morning after our arrival in Christmas Harbor
the chief mate, Mr. Patterson, took the boats, and (al-
though it was somewhat early in the season) went in
search of seal, leaving the captain and a young relation of
his on a point of barren land to the westward, they having
some business, whose nature I could not ascertain, to
transact in the interior of the island. Captain Guy took
with him a bottle, in which was a sealed letter, and made
his way from the point on which he was set on shore tow-
ard one of the highest peaks in the place. It is prob-
able that his design was to leave the letter on that height
for some vessel which he expected to come after him. As
soon as we lost sight of him we proceeded (Peters and
myself being in the mate's boat) on our cruise around the
coast, looking for seal. In this business we were occu-
pied about three weeks, examining with great care every
nook and corner, not only of Kerguelen's Land, but of
the several small islands in the vicinity. Our labors,
however, were not crowned with any important success.
We saw a great many fur seal, but they were exceedingly
shy, and with the greatest exertions, we could only pro-
cure three hundred and fifty skins in all. Sea-elephants
were abundant, especially on the western coast of the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 445

mainland, but of these we killed only twenty, and this
with great difficulty. On the smaller islands we discov-
ered a good many of the hair seal, but did not molest
them. We returned to the schooner on the eleventh,
where we found Captain Guy and his nephew, who gave
a very bad account of the interior, representing it as one
of the most dreary and utterly barren countries in the
world. They had remained two nights on the island, ow-
ing to some misunderstanding, on the part of the second
mate, in regard to the sending a jolly-boat from the
schooner to take them off.

CHAPTER XV.

On the twelfth we made sail from Christmas Harbor,
retracing our way to the westward, and leaving Marion's
Island, one of Crozet's group, on the larboard. We after-
ward passed Prince Edward's Island, leaving it also on
our left ; then, steering more to the northward, made, in
fifteen days, the islands of Tristan d' Acunha, in latitude
370 8' S., longitude 120 8' W.

This group, now so well known, and which consists of
three circular islands, was first discovered by the Portu-
guese, and was visited afterward by the Dutch in 1643,
and by the French in 1767. The three islands together
form a triangle, and are distant from each other about ten
miles, there being fine open passages between. The land
in all of them is very high, especially in Tristan d' Acunha,

446 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

properly so called. This is the largest of the group, being
fifteen miles in circumference, and so elevated that it can
be seen in clear weather at the distance of eighty or
ninety miles. A part of the land toward the north rises
more than a thousand feet perpendicularly from the sea.
A table-land at this height extends back nearly to the
centre of the island, and from this table-land arises a lofty
cone like that of Teneriffe. The lower half of this cone
is clothed with trees of good size, but the upper region is
barren rock, usually hidden among the clouds, and cov-
ered with snow during the greater part of the year. There
are no shoals or other dangers about the island, the
shores being remarkably bold and the water deep. On
the northwestern coast is a bay, with a beach of black
sand, where a landing with boats can be easily effected,
provided there be a southerly wind. Plenty of excellent
water may here be readily procured ; also cod and other
fish may be taken with hook and line.

The next island in point of size, and the most west-
wardly of the group, is that called the Inaccessible. Its
precise situation is 370 if S. latitude, longitude I2°24' W.
It is seven or eight miles in circumference, and on all
sides presents a forbidding and precipitous aspect. Its
top is perfectly flat, and the whole region is sterile, noth-
ing growing upon it except a few stunted shrubs.

Nightingale Island, the smallest and most southerly, is
in latitude 370 26' S., longitude 120 12' W. Off its south-
ern extremity is a high ledge of rocky islets ; a few also

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 447

of a similar appearance are seen to the northeast. The
ground is irregular and sterile, and a deep valley partially
separates it.

The shores of these islands abound, in the proper
season, with sea-lions, sea-elephants, the hair and fur seal,
together with a great variety of oceanic birds. Whales
are also plenty in their vicinity. Owing to the ease with
which these various animals were here formerly taken,
the group has been much visited since its discovery.
The Dutch and French frequented it at a very early
period. In 1790, Captain Patten, of the ship Industry, of
Philadelphia, made Tristan d'Acunha, where he remained
seven months (from August, 1790, to April, 1791) for the
purpose of collecting seal-skins. In this time he gathered
no less than five thousand six hundred, and says that he
would have had no difficulty in loading a large ship with
oil in three weeks. Upon his arrival he found no quadru-
peds, with the exception of a few wild goats ; the island
now abounds with all our most valuable domestic ani-
mals, which have been introduced by subsequent navi-
gators.

I believe it was not long after Captain Patten's visit
that Captain Colquhoun, of the American brig Betsey,
touched at the largest of the islands for the purpose of
refreshment. He planted onions, potatoes, cabbages, and
a great many other vegetables, an abundance of all which
is now to be met with.

In 181 1, a Captain Haywood, in the Nereus, visited

448 NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM.

Tristan. He found there three Americans, who were
residing upon the island to prepare seal-skins and oil.
One of these men was named Jonathan Lambert, and he
called himself the sovereign of the country. He had
cleared and cultivated about sixty acres of land, and
turned his attention to raising the coffee-plant and sugar-
cane, with which he had been furnished by the American
Minister at Rio Janeiro. This settlement, however, was
finally abandoned, and in 1817 the islands were taken
possession of by the British Government, who sent a de-
tachment for that purpose from the Cape of Good Hope.
They did not, however, retain them long ; but, upon the
evacuation of the country as a British possession, two or
three English families took up their residence there inde-
pendently of the Government. On the twenty-fifth of
March, 1824, the Berwick, Captain Jeffrey, from London
to Van Diemen's Land, arrived at the place, where they
found an Englishman of the name of Glass, formerly a
corporal in the British artillery. He claimed to be su-
preme governor of the islands, and had under his control
twenty-one men and three women. He gave a very favor-
able account of the salubrity of the climate and of the
productiveness of the soil. The population occupied
themselves chiefly in collecting seal-skins and sea-elephant
oil, with which they traded to the Cape of Good Hope,
Glass owning a small schooner. At the period of our
arrival the governor was still a resident, but his little
community had multiplied, there being fifty-six persons

NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YAf. 449

upon Tristan, besides a smaller settlement of seven on
Nightingale Island. We had no difficulty in procuring
almost every kind of refreshment which we required —
sheep, hogs, bullocks, rabbits, poultry, goats, fish in great
variety, and vegetables were abundant. Having come to
anchor close in with the large island, in eighteen fathoms,
we took all we wanted on board very conveniently. Cap-
tain Guy also purchased of Glass five hundred seal-skins
and some ivory. We remained here a week, during which
the prevailing winds were from the northward and west-
ward, and the weather somewhat hazy. On the fifth of
November we made sail to the southward and westward,
with the intention of having a thorough search for a
group of islands called the Auroras, respecting whose
existence a great diversity of opinion has existed.

These islands are said to have been discovered as early
as 1762, by the commander of the ship Aurora. In 1790,
Captain Manuel de Oyarvido, in the ship Princess, belong-
ing to the Royal Philippine Company, sailed, as he asserts,
directly among them. In 1794, the Spanish corvette
Atrevida went with the determination of ascertaining
their precise situation, and, in a paper published by the
Royal Hydrographical Society of Madrid in the year 1809,
the following language is used respecting this expedition :
" The corvette Atrevida practised, in their immediate
vicinity, from the twenty-first to the twenty-seventh of
January, all the necessary observations, and measured by
chronometers the difference of longitude between these

450 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

islands and the port of Soledad in the Manilas. The
islands are three ; they are very nearly in the same merid-
ian ; the centre one is rather low, and the other two may
be seen at nine leagues' distance." The observations
made on board the Atrevida give the following results as
the precise situation of each island. The most northern
is in latitude 520 37' 24" S., longitude 470 43' 15" W. ; the
middle one in latitude 530 2' 40" S., longitude 470 55' 15"
W. ; and the most southern in latitude 530 15' 22" S.,
longitude 470 57' 15? W.

On the twenty-seventh of January 1820, Captain James
Weddel, of the British navy, sailed from Staten Land also
in search of the Auroras. He reports that, having made
the most diligent search and passed not only immediately
over the spots indicated by the commander of the Atre-
vida, but in every direction throughout the vicinity of
these spots, he could discover no indication of land.
These conflicting statements have induced other naviga-
tors to look out for the islands ; and, strange to say, while
some have sailed through every inch of sea where they
are supposed to lie without finding them, there have been
not a few who declare positively that they have seen
them ; and even been close in with their shores. It was
Captain Guy's intention to make every exertion within
his power to settle the question so oddly in dispute.*

* Among the vessels which at various times have professed to meet with
the Auroras may be mentioned the ship San Miguel, in 1769 ; the ship Au-
rora, in 1774 ; the brig Pearl, in 1 779 ; and the ship Dolores, in 1790. They
all agree in giving the mean latitude fifty-three degrees south.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 451

We kept on our course, between the south and west,
with variable weather, until the twentieth of the month,
when we found ourselves on the debated ground, being in
latitude 530 15' S., longitude 470 58' W.— that is to say,
very nearly upon the spot indicated as the situation of the
most southern of the group. Not perceiving any sign of
land, we continued to the westward in the parallel of fifty-
three degrees south, as far as the meridian of fifty degrees
west. We then stood to the north as far as the parallel
of fifty-two degrees south, when we turned to the east-
ward, and kept our parallel by double altitudes, morning
and evening, and meridian altitudes of the planets and
moon. Having thus gone eastwardly to the meridian of
the western coast of Georgia, we kept that meridian until
we were in the latitude from which we set out. We then
took diagonal courses throughout the entire extent of sea
circumscribed, keeping a look-out constantly at the mast-
head, and repeating our examination with the greatest
care for a period of three weeks, during which the weather
was remarkably pleasant and fair, with no haze whatsoever.
Of course we were thoroughly satisfied that, whatever
islands might have existed in this vicinity at any former
period, no vestige of them remained at the present day.
Since my return home I find that the same ground was
traced over, with equal care, in 1822, by Captain Johnson,
of the American schooner Henry, and by Captain Morrell,
in the American schooner Wasp — in both cases with the
same result as in our own.

45 2 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

CHAPTER XVI.

It had been Captain Guy's original intention, after sat-
isfying himself about the Auroras, to proceed through the
Strait of Magellan, and up along the western coast of
Patagonia ; but information received at Tristan d' Acunha
induced him to steer to the southward, in the hope of
falling in with some small islands said to lie about the
parallel of 6o° S., longitude 41 ° 20' W. In the event of
his not discovering these lands, he designed, should the
season prove favorable, to push on toward the pole. Ac-
cordingly, on the twelfth of December, we made sail in
that direction. On the eighteenth we found ourselves
about the station indicated by Glass, and cruised for
three days in that neighborhood without finding any
traces of the islands he had mentioned. On the twenty-
first, the weather being unusually pleasant, we again made
sail to the southward, with the resolution of penetrating
in that course as far as possible. Before entering upon
this portion of my narrative, it may be as well, for the in-
formation of those readers who have paid little attention
to the progress of discovery in these regions, to give some
brief account of the very few attempts at reaching the
southern pole which have hitherto been made.

That of Captain Cook was the first of which we have
any distinct account. In 1772 he sailed to the south in
the Resolution, accompanied by Lieutenant Furneaux in
the Adventure. In December he found himself as far as
the fifty-eighth parallel of south latitude, and in longitude

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 453

26° 57' E. Here he met with narrow fields of ice, about
eight or ten inches thick, and running northwest and
southeast. This ice was in large cakes, and usually it was
packed so closely that the vessel had great difficulty in
forcing a passage. At this period Captain Cook supposed,
from the vast number of birds to be seen, and from other
indications, that he was in the near vicinity of land. He
kept on to the southward, the weather being exceedingly
cold, until he reached the sixty-fourth parallel, in longi-
tude 380 14' E. Here he had mild weather, with gentle
breezes, for five days, the thermometer being at thirty-
six. In January, 1773, the vessels crossed the Antarctic
circle, but did not succeed in penetrating much farther ;
for, upon reaching latitude 6y° 15', they found all farther
progress impeded by an immense body of ice, extending
all along the southern horizon as far as the eye could
reach. This ice was of every variety — and some large
floes of it, miles in extent, formed a compact mass, rising
eighteen or twenty feet above the water. It being late in
the season, and no hope entertained of rounding these
obstructions, Captain Cook now reluctantly turned to the
northward.

In the November following he renewed his search in
the Antarctic. In latitude 590 4c/ he met with a strong
current setting to the southward. In December, when
the vessels were in latitude 6y° 31', longitude 1420 54' W.,
the cold was excessive, with heavy gales and fog. Here
also birds were abundant ; the albatross, the penguin, and

454 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

the peterel especially. In latitude yo° 23' some large
islands of ice were encountered, and shortly afterward the
clouds to the southward were observed to be of a snowy
whiteness, indicating the vicinity of field ice. In latitude
71 ° 10', longitude 1060 54' W., the navigators were
stopped, as before, by an immense frozen expanse, which
filled the whole area of the southern horizon. The north-
ern edge of this expanse was ragged and broken, so firmly
wedged together as to be utterly impassable, and extend-
ing about a mile to the southward. Behind it the frozen
surface was comparatively smooth for some distance, until
terminated in the extreme background by gigantic ranges
of ice-mountains, the one towering above the other.
Captain Cook concluded that this vast field reached the
southern pole or was joined to a continent. Mr. J. N.
Reynolds, whose great exertions and perseverance have
at length succeeded in getting set on foot a national ex-
pedition, partly for the purpose of exploring these regions,
thus speaks of the attempt of the Resolution : " We are
not surprised that Captain Cook was unable to go beyond
yi° ior, but we are astonished that he did attain that
point on the meridian of 1060 54' west longitude. Palm-
er's Land lies south of the Shetland, latitude sixty-four
degrees, and tends to the southward and westward farther
than any navigator has yet penetrated. Cook was stand-
ing for this land when his progress was arrested by the
ice ; which, we apprehend, must always be the case in
that point, and so early in the season as the sixth of Jan-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 455

uary — and we should not be surprised if a portion of the
icy mountains described was attached to the main body
of Palmer's Land, or to some other portions of land lying
farther to the southward and westward."

In 1803, Captains Kreutzenstern and Lisiausky were
dispatched by Alexander of Russia for the purpose of
circumnavigating the globe. In endeavoring to get south,
they made no farther than 590 58', in longitude 700 15' W.
They here met with strong currents setting eastwardly.
Whales were abundant, but they saw no ice. In regard to
this voyage, Mr. Reynolds observes that, if Kreutzenstern
had arrived where he did earlier in the season, he must
have encountered ice — it was March when he reached the
latitude specified. The winds, prevailing, as they do, from
the southward and westward, had carried the floes, aided
by currents, into that icy region bounded on the north by
Georgia, east by Sandwich Land and the South Orkneys,
and west by the South Shetland islands.

In 1822, Captain James Weddel, of the British navy,
with two very small vessels, penetrated farther to the
south than any previous navigator, and this too, without
encountering extraordinary difficulties. He states that
although he was frequently hemmed in by ice before
reaching the seventy-second parallel, yet, upon attaining
it, not a particle was to be discovered, and that, upon ar-
riving at the latitude of 740 15', no fields, and only three
islands of ice were visible. It is somewhat remarkable
that, although vast flocks of birds were seen, and other

456 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

usual indications of land, and although, south of the Shet-
lands, unknown coasts were observed from the mast-head
tending southwardly, Weddell discourages the idea of land
existing in the polar regions of the south.

On the nth of January, 1823, Captain Benjamin Mor-
rell, of the American schooner Wasp, sailed from Kergue-
len's Land with a view of penetrating as far south as pos-
sible. On the first of February he found himself in
latitude 640 52' S., longitude 1180 27' E. The following
passage is extracted from his journal of that date : " The
wind soon freshened to an eleven-knot breeze, and we em-
braced this opportunity of making to the west ; being
however convinced that the farther we went south beyond
latitude sixty-four degrees, the less ice was to be appre-
hended, we steered a little to the southward, until we
crossed the Antarctic circle, and were in latitude 6g° 15' E.
In this latitude there was 710 field ice, and very few ice
islands in sight."

Under the date of March fourteenth I find also this
entry: "The sea was now entirely free of fiald ice, and
there were not more than a dozen ice islands in sight. At
the same time the temperature of the air and water was
at least thirteen degrees higher (more mild) than we
had ever found it between the parallels of sixty and
sixty-two south. We were now in latitude 700 14' S., and
the temperature of the air was forty-seven, and that of the
water forty-four. In this situation I found the variation
to be 140 27' easterly, per azimuth. * * * I havesev-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 4$?

eral times passed within the Antarctic circle, on different
meridians, and have uniformly found the temperature,
both of the air and the water, to become more and more
mild the farther I advanced beyond the sixty-fifth degree
of south latitude, and that the variation decreases in the
^ame proportion. While north of this latitude, say be-
tween sixty and sixty-five south, we frequently had great
difficulty in finding a passage for the vessel between the
immense and almost innumerable ice islands, some of
which were from one to two miles in circumference, and
more than five hundred feet above the surface of the
water."

Being nearly destitute of fuel and water, and without
proper instruments, it being also late in the season, Cap-
tain Morrell was now obliged to put back, without at-
tempting any farther progress to the westward, although
an entirely open sea lay before him. He expresses the
opinion that, had not these overruling considerations
obliged him to retreat, he could have penetrated, if not to
the pole itself, at least to the eighty-fifth parallel. I have
given his ideas respecting these matters somewhat at
length, that the reader may have an opportunity of seeing
how far they were borne out by my own subsequent ex-
perience.

In 1 83 1, Captain Briscoe, in the employ of the Messieurs
Enderby, whale-ship owners of London, sailed in the brig
Lively for the South Seas, accompanied by the cutter
Tula. On the twenty-eighth of February, being in lati-

458 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

tude 66° 30' S., longitude 470 13' E., he descried land, and
" clearly discovered through the snow the black peaks of
a range of mountains running E. S. E." He remained in
this neighborhood during the whole of the following month,
but was unable to approach the coast nearer than within
ten leagues, owing to the boisterous state of the weather.
Finding it impossible to make further discovery during
this season, he returned northward to winter in Van Die-
men's Land.

In the beginning of 1832 he again proceeded south-
wardly, and on the fourth of February land was seen to
the southeast in latitude 6y° 15', longitude 690 29/ W.
This was soon found to be an island near the headland of
the country he had first discovered. On the twenty-first
of the month he succeeded in landing on the latter, and
took possession of it in the name of William IV., calling
it Adelaide's Island, in honor of the English queen.
These particulars being made known to the Royal Geo-
graphical Society of London, the conclusion was drawn
by that body " that there is a continuous tract of land
extending from 470 3c/ E. to 6g° 29/ W. longitude, run-
ning the parallel of from sixty-six to sixty-seven degrees
south latitude." In respect to this conclusion Mr. Rey-
nolds observes : " In the correctness of it wre by no means
concur ; nor do the discoveries of Briscoe warrant any
such inference. It was within these limits that Weddel
proceeded south on a meridian to the east of Georgia,
Sandwich Land, and the South Orkney and Shetland

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 459

islands." My own experience will be found to testify-
most directly to the falsity of the conclusion arrived at
by the society.

These are the principal attempts which have been
made at penetrating to a high southern latitude, and it
will now be seen that there remained, previous to the
voyage of the Jane, nearly three hundred degrees of longi-
tude in which the Antarctic circle had not been crossed
at all. Of course a wide field lay before us for discovery,
and it was with feelings of most intense interest that I
heard Captain Guy express his resolution of pushing
boldly to the southward.

CHAPTER XVII.

We kept our course southwardly for four days after
giving up the search for Glass' islands, without meeting
with any ice at all. On the twenty-sixth, at noon,
we were in latitude 630 23' S., longitude 410 25' W.
We now saw several large ice islands, and a floe of field-
ice, not, however, of any great extent. The winds gen-
erally blew from the southeast, or the northeast, but were
very light. Whenever we had a westerly wind, which
was seldom, it was invariably attended with a rain squall.
Every day we had more or less snow. The thermometer,
on the twenty-seventh stood at thirty-five.

January 1, 1828. — This day we found ourselves com-
pletely hemmed in by the ice, and our prospects looked

460 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

cheerless indeed. A strong gale blew, during the whole
forenoon, from the northeast, and drove large cakes of
the drift against the rudder and counter with such vio-
lence that we all trembled for the consequences. Toward
evening, the gale still blowing with fury, a large field in
front separated, and we were enabled, by carrying a press
of sail, to force a passage through the smaller flakes into
some open water beyond. As we approached this space
we took in sail by degrees, and having at length got clear,
lay-to under a single-reefed foresail.

January 2d. — We had now tolerably pleasant weather.
At noon we found ourselves in latitude 690 io' S., longi-
tude 420 20' W., having crossed the Antarctic circle.
Very little ice was to be seen to the southward, although
large fields of it lay behind us. This day we rigged some
sounding gear, using a large iron pot capable of holding
twenty gallons, and a line of two hundred fathoms. We
found the current setting to the north, about a quarter of
a mile per hour. The temperature of the air was now
about thirty-three. Here we found the variation to be
140 28' easterly, per azimuth.

January $tk. — We had still held on to the southward
without any very great impediments. On this morning,
however, being in latitude 730 15' E., longitude 420 io'
W., we were again brought to a stand by an immense
expanse of firm ice. We saw, nevertheless, much open
water to the southward, and felt no doubt of being able
to reach it eventually. Standing to the eastward along

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 46 1

the edge of the floe, we at length came to a passage of
about a mile in width, through which we warped our way
by sundown. The sea in which we now were was thickly
covered with ice inlands, but had no field ice, and we
pushed on boldly as before. The cold did not seem to
increase, although we had snow very frequently, and now
and then hail squalls of great violence. Immense flocks
of the albatross flew over the schooner this day, going
from southeast to northwest.

January jt/i. — The sea still remained pretty well open,
so that we had no difficulty in holding on our course. To
the westward we saw some icebergs of incredible size, and
in the afternoon passed very near one whose summit could
not have been less than four hundred fathoms from the
surface of the ocean. Its girth was probably, at the base,
three quarters of a league, and several streams of water
were running from crevices in its sides. We remained in
sight of this island two days, and then only lost it in a fog.

January 10th. — Early this morning we had the misfor-
tune to lose a man overboard. He was an American, named
Peter Vredenburgh, a native of New York, and was one
of the most valuable hands on board the schooner. In
going over the bows his foot slipped, and he fell be-
tween two cakes of ice, never rising again. At noon of
this day we were in latitude 780 30', longitude 400 15' W.
The cold was now excessive, and we had hail squalls con-
. tinually from the northward and eastward. In this direc-
tion also we saw several more immense icebergs, and the

462 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

whole horizon to the eastward appeared to be blocked up
with field ice, rising in tiers, one mass above the other.
Some driftwood floated by during the evening, and a
great quantity of birds flew over, among which were
nellies, peterels, albatrosses, and a large bird of a brilliant
blue plumage. The variation here, per azimuth, was less
than it had been previously to our passing the Antarctic
circle.

Ja?iuary \2th. — Our passage to the south again looked
doubtful, as nothing was to be seen in the direction of the
pole but one apparently limitless floe, backed by absolute
mountains of ragged ice, one precipice of which arose
frowningly above the other. We stood to the westward
until the fourteenth, in the hope of finding an entrance.

January 14///. — This morning we reached the western
extremity of the field which had impeded us, and, weather-
ing it, came to an open sea, without a particle of ice.
Upon sounding with two hundred fathoms, we here found
a current setting southwardly at the rate of half a mile
per hour. The temperature of the air was forty-seven,
that of the water thirty-four. We now sailed to the south-
ward without meeting any interruption of moment until
the sixteenth, when, at noon, we were in latitude 8i°
2i', longitude 42 ° W. We here again sounded, and found
a current setting still . southwardly, and at the rate
of three quarters of a mile per hour. The variation
per azimuth had diminished, and the temperature of the
air was mild and pleasant, the thermometer being as high

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 463

as fifty-one. At this period not a particle of ice was to
be discovered. All hands on board now felt certain of
attaining the pole.

January ijth. — This day was full of incident. Innumer-
able flights of birds flew over us from the southward, and
several were shot from the deck ; one of them, a species
of pelican, proved to be excellent eating. About midday
a small floe of ice was seen from the mast-head off the lar-
board bow, and upon it there appeared to be some large
animal. As the weather was good and nearly calm,
Captain Guy ordered out two of the boats to see what it
was. Dirk Peters and myself accompanied the mate in
the larger boat. Upon coming up with the floe, we per-
ceived that it was in the possession of a gigantic creature
of the race of the Arctic bear, but far exceeding in size
the largest of these animals. Being well armed, we made
no scruple of attacking it at once. Several shots were
fired in quick succession, the most of which took effect,
apparently, in the head and body. Nothing discouraged,
however, the monster threw himself from the ice, and
swam, with open jaws, to the boat in which were Peters
and myself. Owing to the confusion which ensued among
us at this unexpected turn of the adventure, no person
was ready immediately with a second shot, and the bear
had actually succeeded in getting half his vast bulk across
our gunwale, and seizing one of the men by the small of
his back, before any efficient means were taken to repel
him. In this extremity nothing but the promptness and

464 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

agility of Peters saved us from destruction. Leaping
upon the back of the huge beast, he plunged the blade of
a knife behind the neck, reaching the spinal marrow at a
blow. The brute tumbled into the sea lifeless, and with-
out a struggle, rolling over Peters as he fell. The latter
soon recovered himself, and a rope being thrown him, he
secured the carcass before entering the boat. We then
returned in triumph to the schooner, towing our trophy
behind us. This bear, upon admeasurement, proved to
be full fifteen feet in his greatest length. His wool was
perfectly white, and very coarse, curling tightly. The
eyes were of a blood red, and larger than those of the
Arctic bear ; the snout also more rounded, rather resem-
bling the snout of the bull-dog. The meat was tender, but
excessively rank and fishy, although the men devoured it
with avidity, and declared it excellent eating.

Scarcely had we got our prize alongside, when the man
at the mast-head gave the joyful shout of "land on the
starboard boiv ! M All hands were now upon the alert,
and, a breeze springing up very opportunely from the
northward and eastward, we were soon close in with the
coast. It proved to be a low rocky islet, of about a league
in circumference, and altogether destitute of vegetation,
if we except a species of prickly-pear. In approaching it
from the northward, a singular ledge of rock is seen pro-
jecting into the sea, and bearing a strong resemblance to
corded bales of cotton. Around this ledge to the west-
ward is a small bay, at the bottom of which our boats
effected a convenient landing.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 465

It did not take us long to explore every portion of the
island, but, with one exception, we found nothing worthy
of our observation. In the southern extremity, we picked
up near the shore, half buried in a pile of loose stones, a
piece of wood, which seemed to have formed the prow of
a canoe. There had been evidently some attempt at
carving upon it, and Captain Guy fancied that he made
out the figure of a tortoise, but the resemblance did not
strike me very forcibly. Besides this prow, if such it
were, we found no other token that any living creature
had ever been here before. Around the coast we discov-
ered occasional small floes of ice — but these were very
few. The exact situation of this islet (to which Captain
Guy gave the name of Bennet's Islet, in honor of his
partner in the ownership of the schooner) is 820 50' S.
latitude, 420 20' W. longitude.

We had now advanced to the southward more than
eight degrees farther than any previous navigators, and
the sea still lay perfectly open before us. We found, too,
that the variation uniformly decreased as we proceeded,
and, what was still more surprising, that the temperature of
the air, and latterly of the water, became milder. The
weather might even be called pleasant, and we had a
steady but very gentle breeze always from some northern
point of the compass. The sky was usually clear, with
now and then a slight appearance of thin vapor in the
southern horizon — this, however, was invariably of brief
duration. Two difficulties alone presented themselves to

466 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

our view ; we were getting short of fuel, and symptoms of
scurvy had occurred among several of the crew. These
considerations began to impress upon Captain Guy the
necessity of returning, and he spoke of it frequently. For
my own part, confident as I was of soon arriving at land
of some description upon the course we were pursuing,
and having every reason to believe, from present appear-
ances, that we should not find it the sterile soil met with
in the higher Arctic latitudes, I warmly pressed upon him
the expediency of persevering, at least for a few days longer,
in the direction we were now holding. So tempting an
opportunity of solving the great problem in regard to an
Antarctic continent had never yet been afforded to man,
and I confess that I felt myself bursting with indignation
at the timid and ill-timed suggestions of our commander.
I believe, indeed, that what I could not refrain from saying
to him on this head had the effect of inducing him to push
on. While, therefore, I cannot but lament the most un-
fortunate and bloody events which immediately arose
from my advice, I must still be allowed to feel some de-
gree of gratification at having been instrumental, how-
ever remotely, in opening to the eye of science one of the
most intensely exciting secrets which has ever engrossed
its attention.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 467

CHAPTER XVIII.

JANUARY i8th. — This morning* we continued to the
southward, with the same pleasant weather as before.
The sea was entirely smooth, the air tolerably warm and
from the northeast, the temperature of the water fifty-
three. We now again got our sounding-gear in order,
and, with a hundred and fifty fathoms of line, found the
current setting toward the pole at the rate of a mile an
hour. This constant tendency to the southward, both in
the wind and current, caused some degree of speculation,
and even of alarm, in different quarters of the schooner,
and I saw distinctly that no little impression had been
made upon the mind of Captain Guy. He was exceed-
ingly sensitive to ridicule, however, and I finally suc-
ceeded in laughing him out of his apprehensions. The
variation was now very trivial. In the course of the day
we saw several large whales of the right species, and in-
numerable flights of the albatross passed over the vessel.
We also picked up a bush, full ot red berries, like those
of the hawthorn, and the carcass of a singular-looking

* The terms morning and evening, which I have made use of to avoid con-
fusion in my narrative, as far as possible, must not, of course, be taken in
their ordinary sense. For a long time past we had had no night at all, the
daylight being continual. The dates throughout are according to nautical
time, and the bearings must be understood as per compass. I would also
remark, in this place, that I cannot, in the first portion of what is here
written, pretend to strict accuracy in respect to dates, or latitudes and lon-
gitudes, having kept no regular journal until after the period of which this
first portion treats. In many instances I have relied altogether upon
memory.

468 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

land-animal. It was three feet in length, and but six
inches in height, with four very short legs, the feet armed
with long claws of a brilliant scarlet, and resembling coral
in substance. The body was covered with a straight silky
hair, perfectly white. The tail was peaked like that of a
rat, and about a foot and a half long. The head resem-
bled a cat's, with the exception of the ears — these were
flopped like the ears of a dog. The teeth were of the
same brilliant scarlet as the claws.

January igt/i. — To-day, being in latitude 830 2o\ longi-
tude 430 5' W. (the sea being of an extraordinarily dark
color), we again saw land from the mast-head, and, upon a
closer scrutiny, found it to be one of a group of very large
islands. The shore was precipitous, and the interior
seemed to be well wooded, a circumstance which occa-
sioned us great joy. In about four hours from our first
discovering the land we came to anchor in ten fathoms,
sandy bottom, a league from the coast, as a high surf,
with strong ripples here and there, rendered a nearer ap-
proach of doubtful expediency. The two largest boats
were now ordered out, and a party, well armed (among
whom were Peters and myself), proceeded to look for an
opening in the reef which appeared to encircle the island.
After searching about for some time, we discovered an
inlet, which we were entering, when we saw four large
canoes put off from the shore, filled with men who seemed
to be well armed. We waited for them to come up, and,
as they moved with great rapidity, they were soon within

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 469

hail. Captain Guy now held up a white handkerchief on
the blade of an oar, when the strangers made a full stop,
and commenced a loud jabbering all at once, intermingled
with occasional shouts, in which we could distinguish the
words Anamoo-moo ! and Lama-Lama ! They continued
this for at least half an hour, during which we had a good
opportunity of observing their appearance.

In the four canoes, which might have been fifty feet
long and five broad, there were a hundred and ten savages
in all. They were about the ordinary stature of Euro-
peans, but of a more muscular and brawny frame. Their
complexion a jet black, with thick and long woolly hair.
They were clothed in skins of an unknown black animal,
shaggy and silky, and made to fit the body with some
degree of skill, the hair being inside, except where turned
out about the neck, wrists, and ankles. Their arms con-
sisted principally of clubs, of a dark, and apparently very
heavy wood. Some spears, however, were observed
among them, headed with flint, and a few slings. The
bottoms of the canoes were full of black stones about the
size of a large egg.

When they had concluded their harangue (for it was
clear they intended their jabbering for such), one of them
who seemed to be the chief stood up in the prow of his
canoe, and made signs for us to bring our boats alongside
of him. This hint we pretended not to understand, think-
ing it the wiser plan to maintain, if possible, the interval
between us, as their number more than quadrupled our

470 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

own. Finding this to be the case, the chief ordered the
three other canoes to hold back, while he advanced
toward us with his own. As soon as he came up with us
he leaped on board the largest of our boats, and seated
himself by the side of Captain Guy, pointing at the same
time to the schooner, and repeating the words Anamoo-
moo ! and Lama-Lama ! We now put back to the vessel,
the four canoes following at a little distance.

Upon getting alongside, the chief evinced symptoms of
extreme surprise and delight, clapping his hands, slapping
his thighs and breast, and laughing obstreperously. His
followers behind joined in his merriment, and for some
minutes the din was so excessive as to be absolutely deaf-
ening. Quiet being at length restored, Captain Guy or-
dered the boats to be hoisted up, as a necessary precaution,
and gave the chief (whose name we soon found to be Too-
wit) to understand that we could admit no more than
twenty of his men on deck at one time. With this ar-
rangement he appeared perfectly satisfied, and gave some
directions to the canoes, when one of them approached,
the rest remaining about fifty yards off. Twenty of the
savages now got on board, and proceeded to ramble over
every part of the deck, and scramble about among the
rigging, making themselves much at home, and examining
every article with great inquisitiveness.

It was quite evident that they had never before seen
any of the white race — from whose complexion, indeed,
they appeared to recoil. They believed the Jane to be a

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 4/1

living creature, and seemed to be afraid of hurting it with
the poirfts of their spears, carefully turning them up. Our
crew were much amused with the conduct of Too-wit in
one instance. The cook was splitting some wood near the
galley, and, by accident, struck his axe into the deck,
making a gash of considerable depth. The chief imme-
diately ran up, and pushing the cook on one side rather
roughly, commenced a half whine, half howl, strongly in-
dicative of sympathy in what he considered the sufferings
of the schooner, patting and smoothing the gash with his
hand, and washing it from a bucket of sea-water which
stood by. This was a degree of ignorance for which we
were not prepared, and for my part I could not help think-
ing some of it affected.

When the visitors had satisfied, as well as they could,
their curiosity in regard to our upper works, they were ad-
mitted below, when their amazement exceeded all bounds.
Their astonishment now appeared to be far too deep for
words, for they roamed about in silence, broken only by
low ejaculations. The arms afforded them much food for
speculation, and they were suffered to handle and examine
them at leisure. I do not believe that they had the least
suspicion of their actual use, but rather took them for
idols, seeing the care we had of them, and the attention
with which we watched their movements while handling
them. At the great guns their wonder was redoubled.
They approached them with every mark of the profoundest
reverence and awe, but forbore to examine them minutely.

47 2 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

There were two large mirrors in the cabin, and here was
the acme of their amazement. Too-wit was the first to
approach them, and he had got in the middle of the cabin,
with his face to one and his back to the other, before he
fairly perceived them. Upon raising his eyes and seeing
his reflected self in the glass, I thought the savage would
go mad ; but, upon turning short round to make a retreat,
and beholding himself a second time in the opposite direc-
tion, I was afraid he would expire upon the spot. No
persuasion could prevail upon him to take another look ;
but, throwing himself upon the floor, with his face buried
in his hands, he remained thus until we were obliged to
drag him upon deck.

The whole of the savages were admitted on board in
this manner, twenty at a time, Too-wit being suffered to
remain during the entire period. We saw no disposition
to thievery among them, nor did we miss a single article
after their departure. Throughout the whole of their visit
they evinced the most friendly manner. There were,
however, some points in their demeanor which we found
it impossible to understand ; for example, we could not
get them to approach several very harmless objects — such
as the schooner's sails, an egg, an open book, or a pan of
flour. We endeavored to ascertain if they had among them
any articles which might be turned to account in the way
of traffic, but found great difficulty in being comprehended.
We made out, nevertheless, what greatly astonished us, that
the islands abounded in the large tortoise of the Gallipa-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 473

gos, one of which we saw in the canoe of Too-wit. We saw
also some biche de t-ner in the hands of one of the savages,
who was greedily devouring it in its natural state. These
anomalies, — for they were such when considered in re-
gard to the latitude, — induced Captain Guy to wish for
a thorough investigation of the country, in the hope
of making a profitable speculation in his discovery.
For my own part, anxious as I was to know something
more of these islands, I was still more earnestly bent on
prosecuting the voyage to the southward without delay.
We had now fine weather, but there was no telling how
long it would last ; and being already in the eighty-fourth
parallel, with an open sea before us, a current setting
strongly to the southward, and the wind fair, I could not
listen with any patience to a proposition of stopping
longer than was absolutely necessary for the health of the
crew and the taking on board a proper supply of fuel and
fresh provisions. I represented to the captain that we
might easily make this group on our return, and winter
here in the event of being blocked up by the ice. He at
length came into my views (for in some way, hardly known
to myself, I had acquired much influence over him), and
it was finally resolved that, even in the event of our finding
biche de mcr, we should only stay here a week to recruit,
and then push on to the southward while we might. Ac-
cordingly we made every necessary preparation, and, un-
der the guidance of Too-wit, got the Jane through the
reef in safety, coming to anchor about a mile from the

474 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

shore, in an excellent bay, completely landlocked, on the
southeastern coast of the main island, and in ten fathoms
of water, black sandy bottom. At the head of this bay
there were three fine springs (we were told) of good water,
and we saw abundance of wood in the vicinity. The four
canoes followed us in, keeping, however, at a respectful
distance. Too-wit himself remained on board, and, upon
dropping our anchor, invited us to accompany him on
shore, and visit his village in the interior. To this Cap-
tain Guy consented ; and ten savages being left on board
as hostages, a party of us, twelve in all, got in readiness
to attend the chief. We took care to be well armed, yet
without evincing any distrust. The schooner had her
guns run out, her boarding-nettings up, and every other
proper precaution was taken to guard against surprise.
Directions were left with the chief mate to admit no per-
son on board during our absence, and, in the event of our
not appearing in twelve hours, to send the cutter, with a
swivel, around the island in search of us.

At every step we took inland the conviction forced it-
self upon us that we were in a country differing essentially
from any hitherto visited by civilized men. We saw
nothing with which we had been formerly conversant.
The trees resembled no growth of either the torrid, the
temperate, or the northern frigid zones, and were alto-
gether unlike those of the lower southern latitudes we
had already traversed. The very rocks were novel in
their mass, their color, and their stratification ; and the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 475

streams themselves, utterly incredible as it may appear,
had so little in common with those of other climates, that
we were scrupulous of tasting them, and, indeed, had dif-
ficulty in bringing ourselves to believe that their qualities
were purely those of nature. At a small brook which
crossed our path (the first we had reached) Too-wit and
his attendants halted to drink. On account of the singu-
lar character of the water, we refused to taste it, suppos-
ing it to be polluted ; and it was not until some time af-
terward we came to understand that such was the appear-
ance of the streams throughout the whole group. I am
at a loss to give a distinct idea of the nature of this liquid,
and cannot do so without many words. Although it
flowed with rapidity in all declivities where common
water wTould do so, yet never, except when falling in a
cascade, had it the customary appearance of limpidity.
It was, nevertheless, in point of fact, as perfectly limpid
as any limestone water in existence, the difference being
only in appearance. At first sight, and especially in
cases where little declivity was found, it bore resemblance,
as regards consistency, to a thick infusion of gum arabic
in common water. But this was only the least remarkable
of its extraordinary qualities. It was not colorless, nor
was it of any one uniform color — presenting to the eye,
as it flowed, every possible shade of purple, like the hues
of a changeable silk. This variation in shade wras pro-
duced in a manner which excited as profound astonish-
ment in the minds of our party as the mirror had done in

476 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

the case of Too-wit. Upon collecting a basinful, and al-
lowing it to settle thoroughly, we perceived that the
whole mass of liquid wras made up of a number of distinct
veins, each of a distinct hue ; that these veins did not
commingle ; and that their cohesion was perfect in regard
to their own particles among themselves, and imperfect in
regard to neighboring veins. Upon passing the blade of a
knife athwart the veins, the water closed over it imme-
diately, as with us, and also, in withdrawing it, all traces
of the passage of the knife were instantly obliterated. If,
however, the blade was passed down accurately between
the two veins, a perfect separation was effected, which
the power of cohesion did not immediately rectify. The
phenomena of this water formed the first definite link in
that vast chain of apparent miracles with which I was des-
tined to be at length encircled.

CHAPTER XIX.

We were nearly three hours in reaching the village, it
being more than nine miles in the interior, and the path
lying through a rugged country. As we passed along,
the party of Too-wit (the whole hundred and ten savages
of the canoes) was momentarily strengthened by smaller
detachments, of from two to six or seven, which joined
us, as if by accident, at different turns of the road. There
appeared so much of system in this that I could not help
feeling distrust, and I spoke to Captain Guy of my appre-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 477

hensions. It was now too late, however, to recede, and
we concluded that our best security lay in evincing a per-
fect confidence in the good faith of Too-wit. We accord-
ingly went on, keeping a wary eye upon the manoeuvres
of the savages, and not permitting them to divide our
numbers by pushing in between. In this way, passing
through a precipitous ravine, we at length reached what
we were told was the only collection of habitations upon
the island. As we came in sight of them, the chief set
up a shout, and frequently repeated the word Klock-
klock, which we supposed to be the name of the village,
or perhaps the generic name for villages.

The dwellings were of the most miserable description
imaginable, and, unlike those of even the lowest of the
savage races with which mankind are acquainted, were of
no uniform plan. Some of them (and these we found be-
longed to the Wampoos or Yampoos, the great men of the
land) consisted of a tree cut down at about four feet from
the root, with a large black skin thrown over it, and
hanging in loose folds upon the ground. Under this the
savage nestled. Others were formed by means of rough
limbs of trees, with the withered foliage upon them, made
to recline, at an angle of forty-five degrees, against a bank
of clay, heaped up, without regular form, to the height of
five or six feet. Others, again, were mere holes dug in
the earth perpendicularly, and covered over with similar
branches, these being removed when the tenant was
about to enter, and pulled on again when he had entered.

478 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

A few were built among the forked limbs of trees as they
stood, the upper limbs being partially cut through, so as
to bend over upon the lower, thus forming thicker shelter
from the weather. The greater number, however, con-
sisted of small shallow caverns, apparently scratched in
the face of a precipitous ledge of dark stone, resembling
fuller's earth, with which three sides of the village were
bounded. At the door of each of these primitive caverns
was a small rock, which the tenant carefully placed before
the entrance upon leaving his residence, for what purpose
I could not ascertain, as the stone itself was never of
sufficient size to close up more than a third of the
opening.

This village, if it were worthy of the name, lay in a
valley of some depth, and could only be approached from
the southward, the precipitous ledge of which I have
already spoken cutting off all access in other directions.
Through the middle of the valley ran a brawling stream
of the same magical-looking water which has been de-
scribed. We saw several strange animals about the dwell-
ings, all appearing to be thoroughly domesticated. The
largest of these creatures resembled our common hog in
the structure of the body and snout ; the tail, however,
was bushy, and the legs slender as those of the antelope.
Its motion was exceedingly awkward and indecisive, and
we never saw it attempt to run. We noticed also several
animals very similar in appearance, but of a greater length
of body, and covered with a black wool. There were a

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 479

great variety of tame fowls running about, and these
seemed to constitute the chief food of the natives. To
our astonishment we saw black albatross among these
birds in a state of entire domestication, going to sea peri-
odically for food, but always returning to the village as a
home, and using the southern shore in the* vicinity as a
place of incubation. There they were joined by their
friends the pelicans as usual, but these latter never fol-
lowed them to the dwellings of the savages. Among the
other kinds of tame fowls were ducks, differing very little
from the canvas-back of our own country, black gannets,
and a large bird not unlike the buzzard in appearance,
but not carnivorous. Of fish there seemed to be a great
abundance. We saw, during our visit, a quantity of
dried salmon, rock cod, blue dolphins, mackerel, blackfish,
skate, conger eels, elephant-fish, mullets, soles, parrot-fish,
leather-jackets, gurnards, hake, flounders, paracutas, and
innumerable other varieties. We noticed, too, that most
of them were similar to the fish about the group of the
Lord Auckland islands, in a latitude as low as fifty-one
degrees south. The Gallipago tortoise was also very
plentiful. We saw but few wild animals, and none of a
large size, or of a species with which we were familiar.
One or two serpents of a formidable aspect crossed our
path, but the natives paid them little attention, and we
concluded that they were not venomous.

As we approached the village with Too-wit and his
party, a vast crowd of the people rushed out to meet us, with

480 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

loud shouts, among which we could only distinguish the
everlasting A namoo-moo ! and Lama-Lama / We were much
surprised at perceiving that, with one or two exceptions,
these new comers were entirely naked, the skins being
used only by the men of the canoes. All the weapons of
the country seemed also to be in the possession of the
latter, for there was no appearance of any among the vil-
lagers. There were a great many women and children, the
former not altogether wanting in what might be termed
personal beauty. They were straight, tall, and well
formed, with a grace and freedom of carriage not to be
found in civilized society. Their lips, however, like those
of the men, were thick and clumsy, so that, even when
laughing, the teeth were never disclosed. Their hair was
of a finer texture than that of the males. Among these
naked villagers there might have been ten or twelve who
were clothed, like the party of Too-wit, in dresses of black
skin, and armed with lances and heavy clubs. These ap-
peared to have great influence among the rest, and were
always addressed by the title Wampoo. These, too, were
the tenants of the black skin palaces. That of Too-wit
was situated in the centre of the village, and was much
larger and somewhat better constructed than others of its
kind. The tree which formed its support was cut off at
a distance of twelve feet or thereabout from the root,
and there were several branches left just below the cut,
these serving to extend the covering, and in this way
prevent its flapping about the trunk. The covering, too,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 48 1

which consisted of four very large skins fastened together
with wooden skewers, was secured at the bottom with
pegs driven through it and into the ground. The floor
was strewed with a quantity of dry leaves by way of
carpet.

To this hut we were conducted with great solemnity,
and as many of the natives crowded in after us as possible.
Too-wit seated himself on the leaves, and made signs that
we should follow his example. This we did, and presently
found ourselves in a situation peculiarly uncomfortable, if
not indeed critical. We were on the ground, twelve in
number, with the savages, as many as forty, sitting on
their hams so closely around us that, if any disturbance
had arisen, we should have found it impossible to make
use of our arms, or indeed to have risen on our feet. The
pressure was not only inside the tent, but outside, where
probably was every individual on the whole island, the
crowd being prevented from trampling us to death
only by the incessant exertions and vociferations of
Too-wit. Our chief security lay, however, in the
presence of Too-wit himself among us, and we resolved to
stick by him closely, as the best chance of extricating our-
selves from the dilemma, sacrificing him immediately upon
the first appearance of hostile design.

After some trouble a certain degree of quiet was re-
stored, when the chief addressed us in a speech of great
length, and very nearly resembling the one delivered in
the canoes, with the exception that the Anamoo-moos /

482 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

were now somewhat more strenuously insisted upon than
the Lama-Lamas ! We listened in profound silence until
the conclusion of his harangue, when Captain Guy replied
by assuring the chief of his eternal friendship and good-
will, concluding what he had to say by a present of
several strings of blue beads and a knife. At the former
the monarch, much to our surprise, turned up his nose
with some expression of contempt ; but the knife gave
him the most unlimited satisfaction, and he immediately
ordered dinner. This was handed into the tent over the
heads of the attendants, and consisted of the palpitating
entrails of a species of unknown animal, probably one of
the slim-legged hogs which we had observed in our ap-
proach to the village. Seeing us at a loss how to proceed,
he began, by way of setting us an example, to devour
yard after yard of the enticing food, until we could posi-
tively stand it no longer, and evinced such manifest symp-
toms of rebellion of stomach as inspired his majesty with
a degree of astonishment only inferior to that brought
about by the looking-glasses. We declined, however, par-
taking of the delicacies before us, and endeavored to make
him understand that we had no appetite whatever, having
just finished a hearty dejeuner.

When the monarch had made an end of his meal, we
commenced a series of cross-questioning in every in-
genious manner we could devise, with a view of discover-
ing what were the chief productions of the country, and
whether any of them might be turned to profit. At

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 4$3

length he seemed to have some idea of our meaning, and
offered to accompany us to a part of the coast where he
assured us the biche de mer (pointing to a specimen of that
animal) was to be found in great abundance. We were
glad of this early opportunity of escaping from the op-
pression of the crowd, and signified our eagerness to pro-
ceed. We now left the tent, and, accompanied by the
whole population of the village, followed the chief to the
southeastern extremity of the island, not far from the bay
where our vessel lay at anchor. We waited here for
about an hour, until the four canoes were brought round
by some of the savages to our station. The whole of our
party then getting into one of them, we were paddled
along the edge of the reef before mentioned, and of
another still farther out, where we saw a far greater quan-
tity of biche de mer than the oldest seaman among us had
ever seen in those groups of the lower latitudes most
celebrated for this article of commerce. We stayed near
these reefs only long enough to satisfy ourselves that we
could easily load a dozen vessels with the animal if
necessary, when we were taken alongside the schooner,
and parted with Too-wit, after obtaining from him a
promise that he would bring us, in the course of twenty-
four hours, as many of the canvas-back ducks and Galli-
pago tortoises as his canoes would hold. In the whole of
this adventure we saw nothing in the demeanor of the
natives calculated to create suspicion, with the single ex-
ception of the systematic manner in which their party

484 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

was strengthened during our route from the schooner to
the village.

CHAPTER XX.

The chief was as good as his word, and we were soon
plentifully supplied with fresh provisions. We found the
tortoises as fine as we had ever seen, and the ducks sur-
passed our best species of wild fowl, being exceedingly-
tender, juicy, and well-flavored. Besides these, the sav-
ages brought us, upon our making them comprehend our
wishes, a vast quantity of brown celery and scurvy-grass,
with a canoe-load of fresh fish and some dried. The
celery was a treat indeed, and the scurvy-grass proved of
incalculable benefit in restoring those of our men who had
shotvn symptoms of disease. In a very short time we
had not a single person on the sick-list. We had also
plenty of other kinds of fresh provisions, among which
may be mentioned a species of shell-fish resembling the
mussel in shape, but with the taste of an oyster. Shrimps,
too, and prawns were abundant, and albatross and other
birds' eggs with dark shells. We took in, too, a plentiful
stock of the flesh of the hog which I have mentioned be-
fore. Most of the men found it a palatable food, but I
thought it fishy and otherwise disagreeable. In return
for these good things we presented the natives with blue
beads, brass trinkets, nails, knives, and pieces of red
cloth, they being fully delighted in the exchange. We

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 485

established a regular market on shore, just under the guns
of the schooner, where our barterings were carried on with
every appearance of good faith, and a degree of order
which their conduct at the village of Klock-klock had not
led us to expect from the savages.

Matters went on thus very amicably for several days,
during which parties of the natives were frequently on
board the schooner, and parties of our men frequently on
shore, making long excursions into the interior, and re-
ceiving no molestation whatever. Finding the ease with
which the vessel might be loaded with biche de mery
owing to the friendly disposition of the islanders, and the
readiness with which they would render us assistance in
collecting it, Captain Guy resolved to enter into negotia-
tion with Too-wit for the erection of suitable houses in
which to cure the article, and for the services of himself
and tribe in gathering as much as possible, while he him-
self took advantage of the fine weather to prosecute his
voyage to the southward. Upon mentioning this project
to the chief he seemed very willing to enter into an agree-
ment. A bargain was accordingly struck, perfectly satis-
factory to both parties, by which it was arranged that,
after making the necessary preparations, such as laying
off the proper grounds, erecting a portion of the buildings,
and doing some other work in which the whole of our
crew would be required, the schooner should proceed on
her route, leaving three of her men on the island to
superintend the fulfilment of the project, and instruct the

486 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

natives in drying the biche de mer. In regard to terms,
these were made to depend upon the exertions of the
savages in our absence. They were to receive a stipulated
quantity of blue beads, knives, red cloth, and so forth, for
every certain number of piculs of the biche de mer which
should be ready on our return.

A description of the nature of this important article of
commerce, and the method of preparing it, may prove of
some interest to my readers, and I can find no more suit-
able place than this for introducing an account of it. The
following comprehensive notice of the substance i's taken
from a modern history of a voyage to the South Seas :

" It is that mollusca from the Indian Seas which is
known to commerce by the French name bonche de mer (a
nice morsel from the sea). If I am not much mistaken,
the celebrated Cuvier calls it gasteropcda pulmonifera. It
is abundantly gathered in the coasts of the Pacific islands,
and gathered especially for the Chinese market, where it
commands a great price, perhaps as much as their much-
talked-of edible birds' nests, which are probably made up
of the gelatinous matter picked up by a species of swallow
from the body of these molluscse. They have no shell,
no legs, nor any prominent part, except an absorbing and
an excretory, opposite organs ; but, by their elastic wings,
like caterpillars or worms, they creep in shallow waters,
in which, when low, they can be seen by a kind of swal-
low, the sharp bill of which, inserted in the soft animal,
draws a gummy and filamentous substance, which, by dry-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 487

ing, can be wrought into the solid walls of their nest.
Hence the name of gasteropeda pulmonifcra.

" This mollusca is oblong, and of different sizes, from
three to eighteen inches in length ; and I have seen a few
that were not less than two feet long. They were nearly-
round, a little flattish on one side, which lies next to the
bottom of the sea ; and they are from one to eight inches
thick. They crawl up into shallow water at particular
seasons of the year, probably for the purpose of gender-
ing, as we often find them in pairs. It is when the sun
has the most power on the water, rendering it tepid, that
they approach the shore ; and they often go up into places
so shallow that, on the tide's receding, they are left dry,
exposed to the heat of the sun. But they do not bring
forth their young in shallow water, as we never see any of
their progeny, and the full-grown ones are always observed
coming in from deep water. They feed principally on
that class of zoophites which produce the coral.

"The biche de mer is generally taken in three or four
feet of water ; after which they are brought on shore, and
split at one end with a knife, the incision being one inch
or more, acccording to the size of the mollusca. Through
this opening the entrails are forced out by pressure, and
they are much like those of any other small tenant of the
deep. The article is then washed, and afterward boiled
to a certain degree, which must not be too much or too
little. They are then buried in the ground for four hours,
then boiled again for a short time, after which they are

488 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

dried, either by the fire or the sun. Those cured by the
sun are worth the most ; but where one picul (133-^ lbs.)
can be cured that way, I can cure thirty piculs by the fire.
When once properly cured, they can be kept in a dry place
for two or three years without any risk ; but they should
be examined once in every few months, say four times a
year, to see if any dampness is likely to affect them.

" The Chinese, as before stated, consider biche de mer a
very great luxury, believing that it wonderfully strength-
ens and nourishes the system, and renews the exhausted
system of the immoderate voluptuary. The first quality
commands a high price in Canton, being worth ninety
dollars a picul ; the second quality, seventy-five dollars ;
the third, fifty dollars ; the fourth, thirty dollars ; the fifth,
twenty dollars ; the sixth, twelve dollars ; the seventh,
eight dollars ; and the eighth, four dollars ; small cargoes,
however, will often bring more in Manilla, Singapore, and
Batavia."

An agreement having been thus entered into, we pro-
ceeded immediately to land every thing necessary for pre-
paring the buildings and clearing the ground. A large
flat space near the eastern shore of the bay was selected,
where there was plenty of both wood and water, and
within a convenient distance of the principal reefs on
which the biche de mer was to be procured. We now all
set to work in good earnest, and soon, to the great as-
tonishment of the savages, had felled a sufficient number
of trees for our purpose, getting them quickly in order for

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 4S9

the framework of the houses, which in two or three days
were so far under way that we could safely trust the rest
of the work to the three men whom we intended to leave

behind. These were John Carson, Alfred Harris,

Peterson (all natives of London, I believe), who volun-
teered their services in this respect.

By the last of the month we had every thing in readi-
ness for departure. We had agreed, however, to pay
a formal visit of leave-taking to the village, and Too-wit
insisted so pertinaciously upon our keeping the promise,
that we did not think it advisable to run the risk of
offending him by a final refusal. I believe that not one of
us had at this time the slightest suspicion of the good
faith of the savages. They had uniformly behaved with
the greatest decorum, aiding us with alacrity in our work,
offering us their commodities, frequently without price,
and never, in any instance, pilfering a single article,
although the high value they set upon the goods we had
with us was evident by the extravagant demonstrations of
joy always manifested upon our making them a present.
The women especially were most obliging in every re-
spect, and, upon the whole, we should have been the most
suspicious of human beings had we entertained a single
thought of perfidy on the part of a people who treated us
so well. A very short while sufficed to prove that this ap-
parent kindness of disposition was only the result of a
deeply laid plan for our destruction, and that the islanders
for whom we entertained such inordinate feelings of

49° NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

esteem, were among the most barbarous, subtle, and blood-
thirsty wretches that ever contaminated the face of
the globe.

It was on the first of February that we went on shore
for the purpose of visiting the village. Although, as said
before, we entertained not the slightest suspicion, still no
proper precaution was neglected. Six men were left
in the schooner, with instructions to permit none of
the savages to approach the vessel during our absence, un-
der any pretence whatever, and to remain constantly on
deck. The boarding-nettings were up, the guns double-
shotted with grape and canister, and the swivels loaded
with canisters of musket-balls. She lay, with her anchor
apeak, about a mile from the shore, and no canoe could
approach her in any direction without being distinctly
seen and exposed to the full fire of our swivels imme-
diately.

The six men being left on board, our shore-party con-
sisted of thirty-two persons in all. We were armed to the
teeth, having with us muskets, pistols, and cutlasses;
besides, each had a long kind of seaman's knife, somewhat
resembling the bowie knife now so much used throughout
our western and southern country. A hundred of the
black-skin warriors met us at the landing for the purpose
of accompanying us on our way. We noticed, however,
with some surprise, that they were now entirely without
arms ; and, upon questioning Too-wit in relation to this
circumstance, he merely answered that Mattee fion we pa

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 49 1

pa si — meaning that there was no need of arms where
all were brothers. We took this in good part, and
proceeded.

We had passed the spring and rivulet of which I before
spoke, and were now entering upon a narrow gorge
leading through the chain of soapstone hills among
which the village was situated. This gorge was very-
rocky and uneven, so much so that it was with no
little difficulty we scrambled through it on our first visit
to Klock-klock. The whole length of the ravine might
have been a mile and a half, or probably two miles. It
wound in every possible direction through the hills (hav-
ing apparently formed, at some remote period, the bed of
a torrent), in no instance proceeding more than twenty
yards without an abrupt turn. The sides of this dell
would have averaged, I am sure, seventy or eighty feet in
perpendicular altitude throughout the whole of their ex-
tent, and in some portions they arose to an astonishing
height, overshadowing the pass so completely that but
little of the light of day could penetrate. The general
width was about forty feet, and occasionally it diminished
so as not to allow the passage of more than five or six
persons abreast. In short, there could be no place in the
world better adapted for the consummation of an ambus-
cade, and it was no more than natural that we should
look carefully to our arms as we entered upon it. When
I now think of our egregious folly, the chief subject of
astonishment seems to be, that we should have ever ven-

492 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

tured, under any circumstances, so completely into the
power of unknown savages as to permit them to march
both before and behind us in our progress through this
ravine. Yet such was the order we blindly took up,
trusting foolishly to the force of our party, the unarmed
condition of Too-wit and his men, the certain efficacy of
our fire-arms (whose effect was yet a secret to the natives),
and, more than all, to the long-sustained pretension of
friendship kept up by these infamous wretches. Five or
six of them went on before, as if to lead the way, osten-
tatiously busying themselves in removing the larger stones
and rubbish from the path. Next came our own party.
We walked closely together, taking care only to prevent
separation. Behind followed the main body of the sav-
ages, observing unusual order and decorum.

Dirk Peters, a man named Wilson Allen, and myself
were on the right of our companions, examining, as we
went along, the singular stratification of the precipice
which overhung us. A fissure in the soft rock attracted
our attention. It was about wide enough for one person
to enter without squeezing, and extended back into the
hill some eighteen or twenty feet in a straight course,
sloping afterward to the left. The height of the opening,
as far as we could see into it from the main gorge, was
perhaps sixty or seventy feet. There were one or two
stunted shrubs growing from the crevices, bearing a
species of filbert which I felt some curiosity to examine,
and pushed in briskly for that purpose, gathering five or

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM, 493

six of the nuts at a grasp, and then hastily retreating. As
I turned, I found that Peters and Allen had followed me.
I desired them to go back, as there was not room for two
persons to pass, saying they should have some of my nuts.
They accordingly turned, and were scrambling back, Allen
being close to the mouth of the fissure, when I was sud-
denly aware of a concussion resembling nothing I had
ever before experienced, and which impressed me with a
vague 'conception, if indeed I then thought of any thing,
that the whole foundations of the solid globe were sud-
denly rent asunder, and that the day of universal dissolu-
tion was at hand.

CHAPTER XXI.

As soon as I could collect my scattered senses, I found
myself nearly suffocated, and grovelling in utter darkness
among a quantity of loose earth, which was also falling upon
me heavily in every direction, threatening to bury me en-
tirely. Horribly alarmed at this idea, I struggled to gain
my feet, and at last succeeded. I then remained motion-
less for some moments, endeavoring to conceive what had
happened to me, and where I was. Presently I heard a
deep groan just at my ear, and afterward the smothered
voice of Peters calling to me for aid in the name of God.
I scrambled one or two paces forward, when I fell directly
over the head and shoulders of my companion, who, I
soon discovered, was buried in a loose mass of earth as far

494 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

as his middle, and struggling desperately to free himself
from the pressure. I tore the dirt from around him with
all the energy I could command, and at length succeeded
in getting him out.

As soon as we sufficiently recovered from our fright and
surprise to be capable of conversing rationally, we both
came to the conclusion that the walls of the fissure in
which we had ventured had, by some convulsion of nature,
or probably from their own weight, caved in overhead, and
that we were consequently lost for ever, being thus en-
tombed alive. For a long time we gave up supinely to
the most intense agony and despair, such as cannot be
adequately imagined by those who have never been in a
similar position. I firmly believed that no incident ever
occurring in the course of human events is more adapted
to inspire the supremeness of mental and bodily distress
than a case like our own, of living inhumation. The
blackness of darkness which envelops the victim, the ter-
rific oppression of lungs, the stifling fumes from the damp
earth, unite with the ghastly considerations that we are
beyond the remotest confines of hope, and that such is
the allotted portion of the deady to carry into the human
heart a degree of appalling awe and horror not to be
tolerated — never to be conceived.

At length Peters proposed that we should endeavor to
ascertain precisely the extent of our calamity, and grope
about our prison ; it being barely possible, he observed,
that some opening might yet be left us for escape. I

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 495

caught eagerly at this hope, and, arousing myself to exer-
tion, attempted to force my way through the loose earth.
Hardly had I advanced a single step before a glimmer of
light became perceptible, enough to convince me that,
at all events, we should not immediately perish for want
of air. We now took some degree of heart, and en-
couraged each other to hope for the best. Having
scrambled over a bank of rubbish which impeded our far-
ther progress in the direction of the light, we found less
difficulty in advancing and also experienced some relief
from the excessive oppression of lungs which had tormen-
ted us. Presently we were enabled to obtain a glimpse
of the objects around, and discovered that we were near
the extremity of the straight portion of the fissure, where
it made a turn to the left. A few struggles more, and we
reached the bend, when, to our inexpressible joy, there
appeared a long seam or crack extending upward a vast
distance, generally at an angle of about forty-five degrees,
although sometimes much more precipitous. We could
not see through the whole extent of this opening ; but,
as a good deal of light came down it, we had little doubt
of finding at the top of it (if we could by any means reach
the top) a clear passage into the open air.

I now called to mind that three of us had entered the
fissure from the main gorge, and that our companion,
Allen, was still missing ; we determined at once to retrace
our steps and look for him. After a long search, and
much danger from the farther caving in of the earth above

496 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

us, Peters at length cried out to me that he had hold of
our companion's foot, and that his whole body was deeply
buried beneath the rubbish beyond the possibility of ex-
tricating him. I soon found that what he said was too
true, and that, of course, life had been long extinct. With
sorrowful hearts, therefore, we left the corpse to its fate,
and again made our way to the bend.

The breadth of the seam was barely sufficient to admit
us, and, after one or too ineffectual efforts at getting
up, we began once more to despair. I have before said
that the chain of hills through which ran the main gorge
was composed of a species of soft rock resembling soap-
stone. The sides of the cleft we were now attempting to
ascend were of the same material, and so excessively slip-
pery, being wet, that we could get but little foothold up-
on them even in their least precipitous parts ; in some
places, where the ascent was nearly perpendicular, the
difficulty was, of course, much aggravated ; and, indeed,
for some time we thought insurmountable. We took
courage, however, from despair ; and what, by dint of cut-
ting steps in the soft stone with our bowie knives, and
swinging at the risk of our lives, to small projecting
points of a harder species of slaty rock which now and
then protruded from the general mass, we at length
reached a natural platform, from which was perceptible
a patch of blue sky, at the extremity of a thickly-wooded
ravine. Looking back now, with somewhat more leisure,
at the passage through which we had thus far proceeded,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 497

we clearly saw from the appearance of its sides, that it
was of late formation, and we concluded that the concus-
sion, whatever it was, which had so unexpectedly over-
whelmed us, had also, at the same moment, laid open this
path for escape. Being quite exhausted with exertion,
and, indeed, so weak that we were scarcely able to stand
or articulate, Peters now proposed that we should en-
deavor to bring our companions to the rescue by firing the
pistols which still remained in our girdles — the muskets
as well as cutlasses had been lost among the loose earth
at the bottom of the chasm. Subsequent events proved
that, had we fired, we should have sorely repented it, but
luckily a half suspicion of foul play had by this time arisen
in my mind, and we forebore to let the savages know of
our whereabouts.

After having reposed for about an hour, we pushed on
slowly up the ravine, and had gone no great way before
we heard a succession of tremendous yells. At length we
reached what might be called the surface of the ground ;
for our path hitherto, since leaving the platform, had lain
beneath an archway of high rock and foliage, at a vast
distance overhead. With great caution we stole to a nar-
row opening, through which we had a clear sight of the
surrounding country, when the whole dreadful secret of
the concussion broke upon us in one moment and at one
view.

The spot from which we looked was not far from the
summit of the highest peak in the range of fhe soapstone

498 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

hills. The gorge in which our party of thirty-two had
entered ran within fifty feet to the left of us. But, for at
least one hundred yards, the channel or bed of this gorge
was entirely filled up with the chaotic ruins of more than
a million tons of earth and stone that had been artificially
tumbled within it. The means by which the vast mass
had been precipitated were not more simple than evident,
for sure traces of the murderous work were yet remaining.
In several spots along the top of the eastern side of the
gorge (we were now on the western) might be seen stakes
of wood driven into the earth. In these spots the earth
had not given way ; but throughout the whole extent of
the face of the precipice from which the mass had fallen,
it was clear, from marks left in the soil resembling those
made by the drill of the rock-blaster, that stakes similar
to those we saw standing had been inserted, at not more
than a yard apart, for the length of perhaps three hundred
feet, and ranging at about ten feet back from the edge of
the gulf. Strong cords of grape vine were attached to
the stakes still remaining on the hill, and it was evident
that such cords had also been attached to each of the
other stakes. I have already spoken of the singular
stratification of these soapstone hills; and the description
just given of the narrow and deep fissure through which
we effected our escape from inhumation will afford a fur-
ther conception of its nature. This was such that almost
every natural convulsion would be sure to split the soil
into perpendicular layers or ridges running parallel with

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 499

one another ; and a very moderate exertion of art would
be sufficient for effecting the same purpose. Of this strat-
ification the savages had availed themselves to accom-
plish their treacherous ends. There can be no doubt that,
by the continuous line of stakes, a partial rupture of the
soil had been brought about, probably to the depth of
one or two feet, when, by means of a savage pulling at
the end of each of the cords (these cords being attached
to the tops of the stakes, and extending back from the
edge of the cliff), a vast leverage power was obtained,
capable of hurling the whole face of the hill, upon a given
signal, into the bosom of the abyss below. The fate of
our poor companions was no longer a matter of uncer-
tainty. We alone had escaped from the tempest of that
overwhelming destruction. We were the only living white
men upon the island.

CHAPTER XXII.

Our situation, as it now appeared, was scarcely less
dreadful than when we had conceived ourselves entombed
forever. We saw before us no prospect but that of being
put to death by the savages, or of dragging out a misera-
ble existence in captivity among them. We might, to be
sure, conceal ourselves for a time from their observation
among the fastnesses of the hills, and, as a final resort, in
the chasm from which we had just issued ; but we must
either perish in the long polar winter through cold and

500 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

famine, or be ultimately discovered in our efforts to ob-
tain relief.

The whole country around us seemed to be swarming
with savages, crowds of whom, we now perceived, had
come over from the islands to the soutrnvard on flat rafts,
doubtless with a view of lending their aid in the capture
and plunder of the Jane. The vessel still lay calmly at
anchor in the bay, those on board being apparently quite
unconscious of any danger awaiting them. How we
longed at that moment to be with them ! either to aid in
effecting their escape, or to perish with them in attempt-
ing a defence. We saw no chance even of warning them
of their danger without bringing immediate destruction
upon our own heads, with but a remote hope of benefit to
them. A pistol fired might suffice to apprise them that
something wrong had occurred ; but the report could not
possibly inform them that their only prospect of safety
lay in getting out of the harbor forthwith — it could not
tell them that no principles of honor now bound them to
remain, that their companions were no longer among the
living. Upon hearing the discharge they could not be
more thoroughly prepared to meet the foe, who were now
getting ready to attack, than they already were, and
always had been. No good, therefore, and infinite harm,
would result from our firing, and, after mature delibera-
tion, we forbore.

Our next thought was to attempt to rush toward the
vessel, to seize one of the four canoes which lay at the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 501

head of the bay, and endeavor to force a passage on
board. But the utter impossibility of succeeding in this
desperate task soon became evident. The country, as I
said before, was literally swarming with the natives, skulk-
ing among the bushes and recesses of the hills, so as not
to be observed from the schooner. In our immediate
vicinity especially, and blockading the sole path by which
we could hope to attain the shore at the proper point,
were stationed the whole party of the black-skin warriors,
with Too-wit at their head, and apparently only waiting for
some re-enforcement to commence his onset upon the
Jane. The canoes, too, which lay at the head of the bay,
were manned with savages, unarmed, it is true, but who
undoubtedly had arms within reach, We were forced,
therefore, however unwillingly, to remain in our place of
concealment, mere spectators of the conflict which pres-
ently ensued.

In about half an hour we saw some sixty or seventy
rafts, or flat-boats, with outriggers, filled with savages, and
coming round the southern bight of the harbor. They
appeared to have no arms except short clubs, and stones
which lay in the bottom of the rafts. Immediately after-
ward another detachment, still larger, approached in an
opposite direction, and with similar weapons. The four
canoes, too, were now quickly filled with natives, starting
up from the bushes at the head of the bay, and put off
swiftly to join the other parties. Thus, in less time than
I have taken to tell it, and as if by magic, the Jane saw

502 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

herself surrounded by an immense multitude of desper-
adoes evidently bent upon capturing her at all hazards.
That they would succeed in so doing could not be
doubted for an instant. The six men left in the vessel,
however resolutely they might engage in her defence,
were altogether unequal to the proper management of the
guns, or in any manner to sustain a contest at such odds.
I could hardly imagine that they would make resistance at
all, but in this was deceived ; for presently I saw them get
springs upon the cable, and bring the vessel's starboard
broadside to bear upon the canoes, which by this time
were within pistol range, the rafts being nearly a quarter
of a mile to windward. Owing to some cause unknown,
but most probably to the agitation of our poor friends at
seeing themselves in so hopeless a situation, the discharge
was an entire failure. Not a canoe was hit or a single
savage injured, the shots striking short and ricoclietting
over their heads. The only effect produced upon them
was astonishment at the unexpected report and smoke,
which was so excessive that for some moments I almost
thought they would abandon their design entirely, and re-
turn to the shore. And this they would most likely have
done had our men followed up their broadside by a dis-
charge of small-arms, in which, as the canoes were now so
near at hand, they could not have failed in doing some
execution, sufficient, at least, to deter this party from a
farther advance, until they could have given the rafts also
a broadside. But, in place of this, they left the canoe

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 503

party to recover from their panic, and, by looking about
them, to see that no injury had been sustained, while they
flew to the larboard to get ready for the rafts.

The discharge to larboard produced the most terrible
effect. The star and double-headed shot of the large guns
cut seven or eight of the rafts completely asunder, and
killed, perhaps, thirty or forty of the savages outright,
while a hundred of them, at least, were thrown into the
water, the most of them dreadfully wounded. The re-
mainder, frightened out of their senses, commenced at
once a precipitate retreat, not even waiting to pick up
their maimed companions, who were swimming about in
every direction, screaming and yelling for aid. This great
success, however, came too late for the salvation of our
devoted people. The canoe party were already on board
the schooner to the number of more than a hundred and
fifty, the most of them having succeeded in scrambling up
the chains and over the boarding-nettings even before the
matches had been applied to the larboard guns. Nothing
now could withstand their brute rage. Our men were
borne down at once, overwhelmed, trodden under foot,
and absolutely torn to pieces in an instant.

Seeing this, the savages on the rafts got the better of
their fears, and came up in shoals to the plunder. In five
minutes the Jane was a pitiable scene indeed of havoc
and tumultuous outrage. The decks were split open and
ripped up ; the cordage, sails, and every thing movable
on deck demolished as if by magic ; while, by dint of

504 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

pushing at the stern, towing with the canoes, and hauling
at the sides, as they swam in thousands around the vessel,
the wretches finally forced her on shore (the cable having
been slipped), and delivered her over to the good offices
of Too-wit, who, during the whole of the engagement,
had maintained, like a skilful general, his post of security
and reconnoissance among the hills, but, now that the
victory was completed to his satisfaction, condescended
to scamper down with his warriors of the black skin, and
become a partaker in the spoils.

Too-wit's descent left us at liberty to quit our hiding-
place and reconnoitre the hill in the vicinity of the chasm.
At about fifty yards from the mouth of it we saw a small
spring of water, at which we slaked the burning thirst
that now consumed us. Not far from the spring we dis-
covered several of the filbert-bushes which I mentioned
before. Upon tasting the nuts we found them palatable,
and very nearly resembling in flavor the common English
filbert. We collected our hats full immediately, deposi-
ted them within the ravine, and returned for more.
While we were busily employed in gathering these, a
rustling in the bushes alarmed us, and we were upon the
point of stealing back to our covert, when a large black
bird of the bittern species strugglingly and slowly arose
above the shrubs. I was so much startled that I could
do nothing, but Peters had sufficient presence of mind to
run up to it before it could make its escape, and seize it
by the neck. Its struggles and screams were tremendous,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 505

and we had thoughts of letting it go, lest the noise should
alarm some of the savages who might be still lurking in
the neighborhood. A stab with a bowie knife, however,
at length brought it to the ground, and we dragged it
into the ravine, congratulating ourselves that, at all
events, we had thus obtained a supply of food enough to
last us for a week.

We now went out again to look about us, and ventured
a considerable distance down the southern declivity of
the hill, but met with nothing else which could serve us
for food. We therefore collected a quantity of dry wood
and returned, seeing one or two large parties of the na-
tives on their way to the village, laden with the plunder
of the vessel, and who, we were apprehensive, might dis-
cover us in passing beneath the hill.

Our next care was to render our place of concealment
as secure as possible, and with this object, we arranged
some brushwood over the aperture which I have before
spoken of as the one through which we saw the patch of
blue sky, on reaching the platform from the interior of
the chasm. We left only a very small opening, just wide
enough to admit of our seeing the bay, without the risk
of being discovered from below. Having done this, we
congratulated ourselves upon the security of the position ;
for we were now completely excluded from observation,
as long as we chose to remain within the ravine itself, and
not venture out upon the hill. We could perceive no
traces of the savages having ever been within this hollow ;

506 NARRATIVE OF A, GORDON PYM.

but, indeed, when we came to reflect upon the probability
that the fissure through which we attained it had been
only just now created by the fall of the cliff opposite, and
that no other way of attaining it could be perceived, we
were not so much rejoiced at the thought of being secure
from molestation as fearful lest there should be absolutely
no means left us for descent. We resolved to explore the
summit of the hill thoroughly, when a good opportunity
should offer. In the meantime we watched the motions
of the savages through our loophole.

They had already made a complete wreck of the vessel,
and were now preparing to set her on fire. In a little
while we saw the smoke ascending in huge volumes from
her main hatchway, and, shortly afterward, a dense mass
of flame burst up from the forecastle. The rigging, masts,
and what remained of the sails caught immediately, and
the fire spread rapidly along the decks. Still a great many
of the savages retained their stations about her, hammer-
ing with large stones, axes, and cannon-balls at the bolts
and other iron and copper work. On the beach, and in
canoes and rafts, there were not less, altogether, in the
immediate vicinity of the schooner, than ten thousand
natives, besides the shoals of them who, laden with booty,
were making their way inland and over to the neighbor-
ing islands. We now anticipated a catastrophe, and were
not disappointed. First of all there came a smart shock
(which we felt as distinctly where we were as if we had
been slightly galvanized), but unattended with any visible

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 507

signs of an explosion. The savages were evidently startled,
and paused for an instant from their labors and yellings.
They were upon the point of recommencing, when suddenly
a mass of smoke puffed up from the decks, resembling a
black and heavy thunder-cloud — then, as if from its
bowels, arose a tall stream of vivid fire to the height,
apparently, of a quarter of a mile — then there came a
sudden circular expansion of the flame — then the whole
atmosphere was magically crowded, in a single instant,
with a wild chaos of wood, and metal, and human limbs
— and, lastly, came the concussion in its fullest fury,
which hurled us impetuously from our feet, while the hills
echoed and re-echoed the tumult, and a dense shower of
the minutest fragments of the ruins tumbled headlong in
every direction around us.

The havoc among the savages far exceeded our utmost
expectation, and they had now, indeed, reaped the full
and perfect fruits of their treachery. Perhaps a thousand
perished by the explosion, while at least an equal number
were desperately mangled. The whole surface of the bay
was literally strewn with the struggling and drowning
wretches, and on shore matters were even worse. -They
seemed utterly appalled by the suddenness and complete-
ness of their discomfiture, and made no efforts at assisting
one another. At length we observed a total change in
their demeanor. From absolute stupor, they appeared to
be, all at once, aroused to the highest pitch of excite-
ment, and rushed wildly about, going to and from a cer-

50S NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

tain point on the beach, with the strangest expressions of
mingled horror, rage, and intense curiosity depicted on
their countenances, and shouting, at the top of their voices,
" Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!"

Presently we saw a large body go off into the hills,
whence they returned in a short time, carrying stakes of
wood. These they brought to the station where the
crowd was the thickest, which now separated so as to
afford us a view of the object of all this excitement. We
perceived something white lying upon the ground, but
could not immediately make out what it was. At length
we saw that it was the carcass of the strange animal with
the scarlet teeth and claws which the schooner had picked
up at sea on the eighteenth of January. Captain Guy
had had the body preserved for the purpose of stuffing
the skin and taking it to England. I remember he had
given some directions about it just before our making the
island, and it had been brought into the cabin and stowed
away in one of the lockers. It had now been thrown on
shore by the explosion ; but why it had occasioned so
much concern among the savages was more than we could
comprehend. Although they crowded around the car-
cass at a little distance, none of them seemed willing to
approach it closely. By and by the men with the stakes
drove them in a circle around it, and, no sooner was this
arrangement completed, than the whole of the vast assem-
blage rushed into the interior of the island, with loud
screams of " Tekeli-li ! Tekeli-li! "

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON FY AT. 509

CHAPTER XXIII.

DURING the six or seven days immediately following
we remained in our hiding-place upon the hill, going out
only occasionally, and then with the greatest precaution,
for water and filberts. We had made a kind of pent-
house on the platform, furnishing it with a bed of dry
leaves, and placing in it three large flat stones, which
served us for both fireplace and table. We kindled a fire
without difficulty by rubbing two pieces of dry wood to-
gether, the one soft, the other hard. The bird we had
taken in such good season proved excellent eating, al-
though somewhat tough. It was not an oceanic fowl,
but a species of bittern, with jet black and grizzly plumage,
and diminutive wings in proportion to its bulk. We
afterward saw three of the same kind in the vicinity of the
ravine, apparently seeking for the one we had captured ;
but, as they never alighted, we had no opportunity of
catching them.

As long as this fowl lasted we suffered nothing from
our situation, but it was now entirely consumed, and it
became absolutely necessary that we should look out for
provision- The filberts would not satisfy the cravings of
hunger, afflicting us, too,with severe gripings of the bowels,
and, if freely indulged in, with violent headache. We had
seen several large tortoises near the sea-shore to the east-
ward of the hill, and perceived they might be easily taken,
if we could get at them without the observation of the

5 IO NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YM.

natives. It was resolved, therefore, to make an attempt
at descending.

We commenced by going down the southern declivity,
which seemed to offer the fewest difficulties, but had not
proceeded a hundred yards before (as we had anticipated
from appearances on the hilltop) our progress was entirely
arrested by a branch of the gorge in which our companions
had perished. We now passed along the edge of this for
about a quarter of a mile, when we were again stopped
by a precipice of immense depth, and, not being able to
make our way along the brink of it, we were forced to re-
trace our steps by the main ravine/

We now pushed over to the eastward, but with precisely
similar fortune. After an hour's scramble, at the risk of
breaking our necks, we discovered that we had merely de-
scended into a vast pit of black granite, with fine dust at
the bottom, and whence the only egress was by the rugged
path in which we had come down. Toiling again up this
path, we now tried the northern edge of the hill. Here
we were obliged to use the greatest possible caution in
our manoeuvres, as the least indiscretion would expose us
to the full view of the savages in the village. We crawled
along, therefore, on our hand.s and knees, and, occasion-
ally, were even forced to throw ourselves at full length,
dragging our bodies along by means of the shrubbery. In
this careful manner we had proceeded but a little way,
when we arrived at a chasm far deeper than any we had
yet seen, and leading directly into the main gorge. Thus

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 511

our fears were fully confirmed, and we found ourselves
cut off entirely from access to the world below. Thor-
oughly exhausted by our exertions, we made the best of
our way back to the platform, and, throwing ourselves
upon the bed of leaves, slept sweetly and soundly for
some hours.

For several days after this fruitless search we were oc-
cupied in exploring every part of the summit of the hill,
in order to inform ourselves of its actual resources. We
found that it would afford us no food, with the exception
of the unwholesome filberts, and a rank species of scurvy-
grass, which grew in a little patch of not more than four
rods square, and would be soon exhausted. On the fif-
teenth of February, as near as I can remember, there was
not a blade of this left, and the nuts were growing scarce ;
our situation, therefore, could hardly be more lamentable.*
On the sixteenth we again went round the walls of our
prison, in hope of finding some avenue of escape ; but
to no purpose. We also descended the chasm in which
we had been overwhelmed, with the faint expectation of
discovering, through this channel, some opening to the
main ravine. Here, too, we were disappointed, although
we found and brought up with us a musket.

On the seventeenth we set out with the determination
of examining more thoroughly the chasm of black granite
into which we had made our way in the first search. We

* This day was rendered remarkable by our observing in the south several
huge wreaths of the grayish vapor I have before spoken of.

5 1 2 NARRA TIVE OF A. GORDON P YM.

remembered that one of the fissures in the sides of this
pit had been but partially looked into, and we were
anxious to explore it, although with no expectation of
discovering here any opening.

We found no great difficulty in reaching the bottom of
the hollow as before, and were now sufficiently calm to
survey it with some attention. It was, indeed, one of the
most singular-looking places imaginable, and we could
scarcely bring ourselves to believe it altogether the work
of nature. The pit, from its eastern to its western ex-
tremity, was about five hundred yards in length, when all
its windings were threaded ; the distance from east to
west in a straight line not being more (I should suppose,
having no means of accurate examination) than forty or
fifty yards. Upon first descending into the chasm — that
is to say, for a hundred feet downward from the summit
of the hill, the sides of the abyss bore little resemblance
to each other, and, apparently, had at no time been con-
nected, the one surface being of the soapstone, and the
other of marl, granulated with some metallic matter. The
average breadth or interval between the two cliffs was
probably here sixty feet, but there seemed to be no reg-
ularity of formation. Passing down, however, beyond
the limit spoken of, the interval rapidly contracted, and
the sides began to run parallel, although, for some dis-
tance farther, they were still dissimilar in their material
and form of surface. Upon arriving within fifty feet of the
bottom, a perfect regularity commenced. The sides were

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 513

now entirely uniform in substance, in color, and in lateral
direction, the material being a very black and shining gran-
ite, and the distance between the two sides, at all points,
facing each other, exactly twenty yards. The precise
formation of the chasm will be best understood by means
of a delineation taken upon the spot ; for I had luckily with
me a pocket-book and pencil, which I preserved with
great care through a long series of subsequent adventure,
and to which I am indebted for memoranda of many sub-
jects which would otherwise have been crowded from my
remembrance.

Fig. 1.

This figure (see fig. 1) gives the general outlines of the
chasm, without the minor cavities in the sides, of which
there were several, each cavity having a corresponding
protuberance opposite. The bottom of the gulf was cov-
ered to the depth of three or four inches with a powder
almost impalpable, beneath which we found a continua-
tion of the black granite. To the right, at the lower ex-

5 14 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

tremity, will be noticed the appearance of a small open-
ing ; this is the fissure alluded to above, and to examine
which more minutely than before was the object of our
second visit. We now pushed into it with vigor, cutting
away a quantity of brambles which impeded us, and re-
moving a vast heap of sharp flints somewhat resembling
arrow-heads in shape. We were encouraged to persevere,
however, by perceiving some little light proceeding from
the farther end. We at length squeezed our way for

Fig. 2.
about thirty feet, and found that the aperture was a low
and regularly formed arch, having a bottom of the same
impalpable powder as that in the main chasm. A strong
light now broke upon us, and, turning a short bend, we
found ourselves in another lofty chamber, similar to the
one we had left in every respect but longitudinal form.
Its general figure is here given. (See fig. 2.)

The total length of this chasm, commencing at the
opening a and proceeding round the curve b to the ex-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 515

tremity d, is five hundred and fifty yards. At c we dis-
covered a small aperture similar to the one through which
we had issued from the other chasm, and this was choked
up in the same manner with brambles and a quantity of
the white arrow-head flints. We forced our way through
it, finding it about forty feet long, and emerged into a
third chasm. This, too, was precisely like the first, except
in its longitudinal shape, which was thus. (See fig. 3.)

We found the entire length of the third chasm three
hundred and twenty yards. At the point a was an open-
ing about six feet wide, and extending fifteen feet into

Fig. 3. Fig. 5.

the rock, where it terminated in a bed of marl, there being
no other chasm beyond, as we had expected. We were
about leaving this fissure, into which very little light was
admitted, when Peters called my attention to a range of
singular-looking indentures in the surface of the marl
forming the termination of the cul-de-sac. With a very
slight exertion of the imagination, the left, or most north-
ern of these indentures might have been taken for the in-
tentional, although rude, representation of a human figure
standing erect, with out-stretched arm. The rest of them
bore also some little resemblance to alphabetical char-
acters, and Peters was willing, at all events, to adopt the

$l6 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

idle opinion that they were really such. I convinced him
of his error, finally, by directing his attention to the floor
of the fissure, where, among the powder, we picked up,
piece by piece, several large flakes of the marl, which had
evidently been broken off by some convulsion from the
surface where the indentures were found, and which had
projecting points exactly fitting the indentures ; thus
proving them to have been the work of nature. Fig. 4
presents an accurate copy of the whole.

I A/ fSX. A3

Fig. 4.

After satisfying ourselves that these singular caverns
afforded us no means of escape from our prison, we made
our way back, dejected and dispirited, to the summit of
the hill. Nothing worth mentioning occurred during the
next twenty-four hours, except that, in examining the
ground to the eastward of the third chasm, we found two
triangular holes of great depth, and also with black
granite sides. Into these holes we did not think it worth
while to attempt descending, as they had the appearance
of mere natural wells, without outlet. They were each
about twenty yards in circumference, and their shape,

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 517

as well as relative position in regard to the third chasm,
is shown in figure 5, page 243.

CHAPTER XXIV.

On the the twentieth of the month, finding it altogether
impossible to subsist any longer upon the filberts, the use
of which occasioned us the most excruciating torment, we
resolved to make a desperate attempt at descending the
southern declivity of the hill. The face of the precipice
was here of the softest species of soapstone, although
nearly perpendicular throughout its whole extent (a depth
of a hundred and fifty feet at the least), and in many
places even overarching. After a long search we dis-
covered a narrow ledge about twenty feet below the brink
of the gulf ; upon this Peters contrived to leap, with what
assistance I could render him by means of our pocket-
handkerchiefs tied together. With somewhat more diffi-
culty I also got down ; and we then saw the possibility of
descending the whole way by the process in which we had
clambered up from the chasm when we had been buried
by the fall of the hill — that is, by cutting steps in the face
of the soapstone with our knives. The extreme hazard of
the attempt can scarcely be conceived ; but, as there was
no other resource, we determined to undertake it.

Upon the ledge where we stood there grew some filbert-
bushes ; and to one of these we made fast an end of
our rope of handkerchiefs. The other end being tied

5 IS NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

round Peters' waist, I lowered him down over the edge of
the precipice until the handkerchiefs were stretched tight.
He now proceeded to dig a deep hole in the soapstone
(as far in as eight or ten inches), sloping away the rock
above to the height of a foot, or thereabout, so as to allow
of his driving, with the butt of a pistol, a tolerably strong
peg into the levelled surface. I then drew him up for
about four feet, when he made a hole similar to the one
below, driving in a peg as before, and having thus a rest-
ing-place for both feet and hands. I now unfastened the
handkerchiefs from the bush, throwing him the end,
which he tied to the peg in the uppermost hole, letting
himself down gently to a station about three feet lower
than he had yet been — that is, to the full extent of
the handkerchiefs. Here he dug another hole, and drove
another peg. He then drew himself up, so as to rest his
feet in the hole just cut, taking hold with his hands upon
the peg in the one above. It was now necessary to untie
the handkerchiefs from the topmost peg, with the view of
fastening them to the second ; and here he found that an
error had been committed in cutting the holes at so great
a distance apart. However, after one or two unsuccessful
and dangerous attempts at reaching the knot (having
to hold on with his left hand while he labored to undo the
fastening with his right), he at length cut the string, leav-
ing six inches of it affixed to the peg. Tying the handker-
chiefs now to the second peg, he descended to a station
below the third, taking care not to go too far down. By

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 519

these means (means which I should never have conceived
of myself, and for which we were indebted altogether
to Peters' ingenuity and resolution) my companion finally
succeeded, with the occasional aid of projections in the
cliff, in reaching the bottom without accident.

It was some time be/ore I could summon sufficient
resolution to follow him ; but I did at length attempt it.
Peters had taken off his shirt before descending, and this,
with my own, formed the rope necessary for the adven-
ture. After throwing down the musket found in the
chasm, I fastened this rope to the bushes, and let myself
down rapidly, striving, by the vigor of my movements, to
banish the trepidation which I could overcome in no other
manner. This answered sufficiently well for the first four
or five steps ; but presently I found my imagination grow-
ing terribly excited by thoughts of the vast depths yet
to be descended, and the precarious nature of the pegs
and soapstone holes which were my only support. It was
in vain I endeavored to banish these reflections, and to
keep my eyes steadily bent upon the flat surface of
the cliff before me. The more earnestly I struggled not
to think, the more intensely vivid became my conceptions,
f and the more horribly distinct. At length arrived that
crisis of fancy, so fearful in all similar cases, the crisis
in which we begin to anticipate the feelings with which we
shall fall — to picture to ourselves the sickness, and dizzi-
ness, and the last struggle, and the half swoon, and
the final bitterness of the rushing and headlong descent.

$20 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

And now I found these fancies creating their own realities,
and all imagined horrors crowding upon me in fact. I
felt my knees strike violently together, while my fingers
were gradually but certainly relaxing their grasp. There
was a ringing in my ears, and I said, " This is my knell of
death ! " And now I was consumed with the irrepressible
desire of looking below. I could not, I would not, con-
fine my glances to the cliff ; and, with a wild, indefinable
emotion, half of horror, half of a relieved oppression,
I threw my vision far down into the abyss. For one mo-
ment my fingers clutched convulsively upon their hold,
while, with the movement, the faintest possible idea
of ultimate escape wandered, like a shadow, through
my mind — in the next my whole soul was pervaded with
a longing to fall ; a desire, a yearning, a passion utterly
uncontrollable. I let go at once my grasp upon the peg,
and, turning half round from the precipice, remained tot-
tering for an instant against its naked face. But now
there came a spinning of the brain ; a shrill-sounding and
phantom voice screamed within my ears ; a dusky, fiendish,
and filmy figure stood immediately beneath me ; and,
sighing, I sunk down with a bursting heart, and plunged
within its arms.

I had swooned, and Peters had caught me as I fell. He
had observed my proceedings from his station at the bot-
tom of the cliff ; and perceiving my imminent danger, had
endeavored to inspire me with courage by every sugges-
tion he could devise ; although my confusion of mind had

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 52 1

been so great as to prevent my hearing what he said, or
being conscious that he had even spoken to me at all. At
length, seeing me totter, he hastened to ascend to my res-
cue, and arrived just in time for my preservation. Had I
fallen with my full weight, the rope of linen would inevi-
tably have snapped, and I should have been precipitated
into the abyss ; as it was, he contrived to let me down
gently, so as to remain suspended without danger until
animation returned. This was in about fifteen minutes.
On recovery, my trepidation had entirely vanished ; I felt
a new being, and, with some little further aid from my
companion, reached the bottom also in safety.

We now found ourselves not far from the ravine which
had proved the tomb of our friends, and to the southward
of the spot where the hill had fallen. The place was one
of singular wildness, and its aspect brought to my mind
the descriptions given by travellers of those dreary regions
marking the site of degraded Babylon. Not to speak of
the ruins of the disruptured cliff, which formed a chaotic
barrier in the vista to the northward, the surface of the
ground in every other direction was strewn with huge tu-
muli, apparently the wreck of some gigantic structures of
art ; although, in detail, no semblance of art could be de-
tected. Scoria were abundant, and large shapeless blocks
of the black granite, intermingled with others of marl,*
and both granulated withmetal. Of vegetation there were

* The marl was also black ; indeed, we noticed no light-colored substan-
ces of any kind upon the island.

522 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

no traces whatsoever throughout the whole of the deso^
late area within sight. Several immense scorpions were
seen, and various reptiles not elsewhere to be found in the
high latitudes.

As food was our most immediate object, we resolved to
make our way to the sea-coast, distant not more than half
a mile, with a view of catching turtle, several of which we
had observed from our place of concealment on the hill.
We had proceeded some hundred yards, threading our
route cautiously between the huge rocks and tumuli,
when, upon turning a corner, five savages sprung upon us
from a small cavern, felling Peters to the ground with a
blow from a club. Ashe fell the whole party rushed upon
him to secure their victim, leaving me time to recover from
my astonishment. I still had the musket, but the barrel
had received so much injury in being thrown from the
precipice that I cast it aside as useless, preferring to trust
my pistols, which had been carefully preserved in order.
With these I advanced upon the assailants, firing one
after the other in quick succession. Two savages fell, and
one, who was in the act of thrusting a spear into Peters,
sprung to his feet without accomplishing his purpose. My
companion being thus released, we had no further diffi-
culty. He had his pistols also, but prudently declined
using them, confiding in his great personal strength, which
far exceeded that of any person I have ever known.
Seizing a club from one of the savages who had fallen, he
dashed out the brains of the three who remained, killing

NARRATIVE OP A. GORDON PYM, 523

each instantaneously with a single blow of the weapon,
and leaving us completely masters of the field.

So' rapidly had these events passed, that we could
scarcely believe in their reality, and were standing over
the bodies of the dead in a species of stupid contempla-
tion, when we were brought to recollection by the sound
of shouts in the distance. It was clear that the savages
had been alarmed by the .firing, and that we had lit-
tle chance of avoiding discovery. To regain the cliff, it
would be necessary to proceed in the direction of the
shouts ; and even should we succeed in arriving at its
base, we should never be able to ascend it without being
seen. Our situation was one of the greatest peril, and
we were hesitating in which path to commence a flight,
when one of the savages whom I had shot, and supposed
dead, sprang briskly to his feet, and attempted to make
his escape. We overtook him, however, before he had ad-
vanced many paces, and were about to put him to death,
when Peters suggested that we might derive some benefit
from forcing him to accompany us in our attempt to es-
cape. We therefore dragged him with us, making him
understand that we would shoot him if he offered resist-
ance. In a few minutes he was perfectly submissive, and
ran by our sides as we pushed in among the rocks, making
for the sea-shore.

So far, the irregularities of the ground we had been
traversing hid the sea, except at intervals, from our sight,
and, when we first had it fairly in view, it was perhaps,

524 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

two hundred yards distant. As we emerged into the
open beach we saw, to our great dismay, an immense
crowd of the natives pouring from the village, and 'from
all visible quarters of the island, making toward us with
gesticulations of extreme fury, and howling like wild
beasts. We were upon the point of turning upon our
steps, and trying to secure a retreat among the fastnesses
of the rougher ground, when I discovered the bows of
two canoes projecting from behind a large rock which
ran out into the water. Toward these we now ran with
all speed, and, reaching them, found them unguarded,
and without any other freight than three of the large
Gallipago turtles and the usual supply of paddles for sixty
rowers. We instantly took possession of one of them,
and, forcing our captive on board, pushed out to sea with
all the strength we could command.

We had not made, however, more than fifty yards from
the shore before we became sufficiently calm to perceive
the great oversight of which we had been guilty in leaving
the other canoe in the power of the savages, who, by this
time, were not more than twice as far from the beach as
ourselves, and were rapidly advancing to the pursuit. No
time was now to be lost. Our hope was, at best, a forlorn
one, but we had none other. It was very doubtful
whether, with the utmost exertion, we could get back in
time to anticipate them in taking possession of the canoe ;
but yet there was a chance that we could. We might
save ourselves if we succeeded, while not to make the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 525

attempt was to resign ourselves to inevitable butchery.
The canoe was modelled with the bow and stern alike,
and, in place of turning it around, we merely changed our
position in paddling. As soon as the savages perceived
this they redoubled their yells, as well as their speed, and
approached with inconceivable rapidity. We pulled,
however, with all the energy of desperation, and arrived
at the contested point before more than one of the natives
had attained it. This man paid dearly for his superior
agility, Peters shooting him through the head with a pis-
tol as he approached the shore. The foremost among the
rest of his party were probably some twenty or thirty
paces distant as we seized upon the canoe. We at first
endeavored to pull her into the deep water, beyond the
reach of the savages, but, finding her too firmly aground,
and there being no time to spare, Peters, with one or two
heavy strokes from the butt of the musket, succeeded in
dashing out a large portion of the bow and of one side.
We then pushed off. Two of the natives by this time
had got hold of our boat, obstinately refusing to let go,
until we were forced to dispatch them with our knives.
We were now clear off, and making great way out to sea.
The main body of the savages, upon reaching the broken
canoe, set up the most tremendous yell of rage and dis-
appointment conceivable. In truth, from every thing I
could see of these wretches, they appeared to be the most
wicked, hypocritical, vindictive, bloodthirsty, and alto-
gether fiendish race of men upon the face of the globe.

526 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

It is clear we should have had no mercy had we fallen into
their hands. They made a mad attempt at following us
in the fractured canoe, but, finding it useless, again vented
their rage in a series of hideous vociferations, and rushed
up into the hills.

We were thus relieved from immediate danger, but our
situation was still sufficiently gloomy. We knew that
four canoes of the kind we had were at one time in the
possession of the savages, and were not aware of the fact
(afterward ascertained from our captive) that two of these
had been blown to pieces in the explosion of the Jane
Guy. We calculated, therefore, upon being yet pursued,
as soon as our enemies could get round to the bay (distant
about three miles) where the boats were usually laid up.
Fearing this, we made every exertion to leave the island
behind us, and went rapidly through the water, forcing
the prisoner to take a paddle. In about half an hour,
when we had gained probably, five or six miles to the
southward, a large fleet of the flat-bottomed canoes or
rafts were seen to emerge from the bay evidently with
the design of pursuit. Presently they put back, despair-
ing to overtake us.

CHAPTER XXV,

We now found ourselves in the wide and desolate An-
tarctic Ocean, in a latitude exceeding eighty-four degrees,
in a frail canoe, and with no provision but the three

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. $2?

turtles. The long polar winter, too, could not be consid-
ered as far distant, and it became necessary that we should
deliberate well upon the course to be pursued. There
were six or seven islands in sight belonging to the same
group, and distant from each other about five or six
leagues ; but upon neither of these had we any intention
to venture. In coming from the northward in the Jane
Guy we had been gradually leaving behind us the severest
regions of ice, — this, however little it may be in accor-
dance with the generally received notions respecting the
Antarctic, was a fact experience would not permit us to
deny. To attempt, therefore, getting back would be
folly — especially at so late a period of the season. Only
one course seemed to be left open for hope. We resolved
to steer boldly to the southward, where there was at least
a probability of discovering other lands, and more than a
probability of finding a still milder climate.

So far we had found the Antarctic, like the Arctic
Ocean, peculiarly free from violent storms or immoder-
ately rough water ; but our canoe was, at best, of frail
structure, although large, and we set busily to work with
a view of rendering her as safe as the limited means in
our possession would admit. The body of the boat was
of no better material than bark — the bark of a tree un-
known. The ribs were of a tough osier, well adapted to
the purpose for which it was used. We had fifty feet
room from stem to stern, from four to six in breadth, and
in depth throughout four feet and a half — the boats thus

523 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

differing vastly in shape from those of any other inhabi-
tants of the Southern Ocean with whom civilized nations
are acquainted. We never did believe them the work-
manship of the ignorant islanders who owned them ; and
some days after this period discovered, by questioning
our captive, that they were in fact made by the natives of
a group to the southwest of the country where we found
them, having fallen accidentally into the hands of our
barbarians. What we could do for the security of our
boat was very little indeed. Several wide rents were dis-
covered near both ends, and these we contrived to patch
up with pieces of woollen jacket. With the help of the
superfluous paddles, of which there were a great many,
we erected a kind of framework about the bow, so as to
break the force of any seas which might threaten to fill us
in that quarter. We also set up two paddle-blades for
masts, placing them opposite each other, one by each
gunwale, thus saving the necessity of a yard. To these
masts we attached a sail made of our shirts — doing this
with some difficulty, as here we could get no assistance
from our prisoner whatever, although he had been willing
enough to labor in all the other operations. The sight of
the linen seemed to affect him in a very singular manner.
He could not be prevailed upon to touch it or go near it,
shuddering when we attempted to force him, and shriek-
ing out, "Tekeli-li ! "

Having completed our arrangements in regard to the
security of the canoe, we now set sail to the south-south-

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 529

east for the present, with the view of weathering the most
southerly of the group in sight. This being done, we
turned the bow full to the southward. The weather
could by no means be considered disagreeable. We had
a prevailing and very gentle wind from the northward, a
smooth sea, and continual daylight. No ice whatever
was to be seen ; nor did I ever see one particle of this
after leaving the parallel of Bennefs Islet. Indeed, the
temperature of the water was here far too warm for its
existence in any quantity. Having killed the largest of
our tortoises, and obtained from him not only food but a
copious supply of water, we continued on our course,
without any incident of moment, for perhaps seven or
eight days, during which period we must have proceeded
a vast distance to the southward, as the wind blew con-
stantly with us, and a very strong current set continually
in the direction we were pursuing.

March 1st* — Many unusual phenomena now indicated
that wre were entering upon a region of novelty and
wonder. A high range of light gray vapor appeared con-
stantly in the southern horizon, flaring up occasionally in
lofty streaks, now darting from east to west, now from
west to east, and again presenting a level and uniform
summit — in short, having all the wild variations of the
Aurora Borealis. The average height of this vapor, as
apparent from our station, was about twenty-five degrees.

* For obvious reasons I cannot pretend to strict accuracy in these dates.
They are given principally with a view to perspicuity of narration, and as
set down in my pencil memorandum.

530 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM,

The temperature of the sea seemed to be increasing mo-
mentarily, and there was a very perceptible alteration in
its color.

March 2d. — To-day by repeated questioning of our cap-
tive, we came to the knowledge of many particulars in
regard to the island of the massacre, its inhabitants, and
customs — but with these how can I now detain the reader?
I may say, however, that we learned there were eight
islands in the group — that they were governed by a common
king, named Tsalemon or Psalemoun, who resided in one of
the smallest of the islands ; that the black skins forming
the dress of the warriors came from an animal of huge
size to be found only in a valley near the court of the
king — that the inhabitants of the group fabricated no
other boats than the flat-bottomed rafts ; the four canoes
being all of the kind in their possession, and these having
been obtained, by mere accident, from some large island
in the southwest — that his own name was Nu-Nu — that
he had no knowledge of Bennet's Islet — and that the ap-
pellation of the island he had left was Tsalal. The com-
mencement of the words Tsalemon and Tsalal was given
with a prolonged hissing sound, which we found it impos-
sible to imitate, even after repeated endeavors, and which
was precisely the same with the note of the black bittern
we had eaten up on the summit of the hill.

March 3d. — The heat of the water was now truly re-
markable, and in color was undergoing a rapid change,
being no longer transparent, but of a milky consistency

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 531

and hue. In our immediate vicinity it was usually smooth,
never so rough as to endanger the canoe — but we were
frequently surprised at perceiving, to our right and left,
at different distances, sudden and extensive agitations of
the surface — these, we at length noticed, were always pre-
ceded by wild flickerings in the region of vapor to the
southward.

March 4th. — To-day, with the view of widening our sail,
the breeze from the northward dying away perceptibly, I
took from my coat-pocket a white handkerchief. Nu-Nu
was seated at my elbow, and the linen accidentally flaring
in his face, he became violently affected with convulsions.
These were succeeded by drowsiness and stupor, and low
murmurings of " Tekeli-li ! Tekeli-li / "

March %th. — The wind had entirely ceased, but it was
evident that we were still hurrying on to the southward,
under the influence of a powerful current. And now, in-
deed, it would seem reasonable that we should experience
some alarm at the turn events were taking — but we felt
none. The countenance of Peters indicated nothing of
this nature, although it wore at times an expression I
could not fathom. The polar winter appeared to be com-
ing on — but coming without its terrors. I felt a numbness
of body and mind — a dreaminess of sensation — but this
was all.

March 6th. — The gray vapor had now arisen many more
degrees above the horizon, and was gradually losing its
grayness of tint. The heat of the water was extreme,

532 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

even unpleasant to the touch, and its milky hue was more
evident than ever. To-day a violent agitation of the
water occurred very close to the canoe. It was attended,
as usual, with a wild flaring up of the vapor at its summit,
and a momentary division at its base. A fine white
powder, resembling ashes — but certainly not such — fell
over the canoe and over a large surface of the water, as
the flickering died away among the vapor and the com-
motion subsided in the sea. Nu-Nu now threw himself on
his face in the bottom of the boat, and no persuasions
could induce him to arise.

March ph. — This day we questioned Nu-Nu concern-
ing the motives of his countrymen in destroying our com-
panions ; but he appeared to be too utterly overcome by
terror to afford us any rational reply. He still obstinately
lay in the bottom of the boat ; and, upon our reiterating
the questions as to the motive, made use only of idiotic
gesticulations, such as raising with his forefinger the upper
lip, and displaying the teeth which lay beneath it. These
were black. We had never before seen the teeth of an
inhabitant of Tsalal.

March &th. — To-day there floated by us one of the white
animals whose appearance upon the beach at Tsalal had
occasioned so wild a commotion among the savages. I
would have picked it up, but there came over me a sud-
den listlessness, and I forbore. The heat of the water
still increased, and the hand could no longer be endured
within it. Peters spoke little, and I knew not what to
think of his apathy. Nu-Nu breathed, and no more.

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. 533

March gt/i. — The whole ashy material fell now continu-
ally around us, and in vast quantities. The range of vapor
to the southward had arisen prodigiously in the horizon,
and began to assume more distinctness of form. I can
liken it to nothing but a limitless cataract, rolling silently
into the sea from some immense and far-distant rampart
in the heaven. The gigantic curtain ranged along the
whole extent of the southern horizon. It emitted no
sound.

March 21st. — A sullen darkness now hovered above us
— but from out the milky depths of the ocean a luminous
glare arose, and stole up along the bulwarks of the boat.
We were nearly overwhelmed by the white ashy shower
which settled upon us and upon the canoe, but melted
into the water as it fell. The summit of the cataract was
utterly lost in the dimness and the distance. Yet we
were evidently approaching it with a hideous velocity.
At intervals there were visible in it wide, yawning, but
momentary rents, and from out these rents, within which
was a chaos of flitting and indistinct images, there came
rushing and mighty, but soundless winds, tearing up the
enkindled ocean in their course.

March 22d. — The darkness had materially increased, re-
lieved only by the glare of the water thrown back from
the white curtain before us. Many gigantic and pallidly
wrhite birds flew continuously now from beyond the veil,
and their scream was the eternal Tckcli-li ! as they re-
treated from our vision. Hereupon Nu-Nu stirred in the

534 NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM.

bottom of the boat ; but upon touching him, we found
his spirit departed. And now we rushed into the em-
braces of the cataract, where a chasm threw itself open to
receive us. But there arose in our pathway a shrouded
human figure, very far larger in its proportions than any
dweller among men. And the hue of the skin of the
figure was of the perfect whiteness of the snow.

NOTE.

The circumstances connected with the late sudden and distressing death
of Mr. Pym are already well known to the public through the medium of
the daily press. It is feared that the few remaining chapters which were
to have completed his narrative, and which were retained by him, while the
above were in type, for the purpose of revision, have been irrecoverably lost
through the accident by which he perished himself. This, however, may
prove not to be the case, and the papers, if ultimately found, will be given
to the public.

No means have been left untried to remedy the deficiency. The gentle-
man whose name is mentioned in the preface, and who, from the statement
there made, might be supposed able to fill the vacuum, has declined the
task — this, for satisfactory reasons connected with the general inaccuracy
of the details afforded him, and his disbelief in the entire truth of the latter
portions of the narration. Peters, from whom some information might be
expected, is still alive, and a resident of Illinois, but cannot be met with at
present. He may hereafter be found, and will, no doubt, afford material
for a conclusion of Mr. Pym's account.

The loss of two or three final chapters (for there were but two or three)
is the more deeply to be regretted, as, it cannot be doubted, they contained
matter relative to the Pole itself, or at least to regions in its very near prox-
imity ; and as, too, the statements of the author in relation to these regions
may shortly be verified or contradicted by means of the governmental expe-
dition now preparing for the Southern Ocean.

On one point in the narrative some remarks may well be offered ; and it
would afford the writer of this appendix much pleasure if what he may here
observe should have a tendency to throw credit, in any degree, upon the

NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM. $3S

very singular pages now published. We allude to the chasms found in the
island of Tsalal, and to the whole of the figures upon pages 241. 242,
243, 244.

Mr. Pym has given the figures of the chasms without comment, and
speaks decidedly of the indentures found at the extremity of the most east-
erly of these chasms as having but a fanciful resemblance to alphabetical
characters, and, in short, as being positively not such. This assertion is
made in a manner so simple, and sustained by a species of demonstration so
conclusive (viz., the fitting of the projections of the fragments found among
the dust into the indentures upon the wall), that we are forced to believe
the writer in earnest ; and no reasonable reader should suppose otherwise.
But as the facts in relation to all the figures are most singular (especially
when taken in connection with statements made in the body of the narra-
tive), it may be as well to say a word or two concerning them all — this, too,
the more especially as the facts in question have, beyond doubt, escaped the
attention of Mr. Poe.

Figure 1, then, figure 2, figure 3, and figure 5, when conjoined with one
another in the precise order which the chasms themselves presented, and
when deprived of the small lateral branches or arches (which, it will be re-
membered, served only as a means of communication between the main
chambers, and were of totally distinct character), constitute an Ethiopian
verbal root — the root /\ £\.^^ " To be shady," — whence all the inflec-
tions of shadow or darkness.

In regard to the " left or most northwardly " of the indentures in figure 4,
it is more than probable that the opinion of Peters was correct, and that the
hieroglyphical appearance was really the work of art, and intended as the
representation of a human form. The delineation is before the reader, and
he may, or may not, perceive the resemblance suggested ; but the rest of the
indentures afford strong confirmation of Peters' idea. The upper range is
evidently the Arabic verbal root ^^.LAO " To be white," whence all
the inflections of brilliancy and whiteness. The lower range is not so im-
mediately perspicuous. The characters are somewhat broken and dis-
jointed ; nevertheless, it cannot be doubted that, in their perfect state, they
formed the full Egyptian word II&:U:YPHC> "The region of the
south." It should be observed that these interpretations confirm the opinion
of Peters in regard to the "most northwardly" of the figures. The arm
is outstretched toward the south.

Conclusions such as these open a wide field for speculation and exciting
conjecture. They should be regarded, perhaps, in connection with some of
the most faintly-detailed incidents of the narrative ; although in no visible

53^

NARRATIVE OF A. CORDON PYM.

manner is this chain of connection complete. Tekeli-li ! was the cry of the
affrighted natives of Tsalal upon discovering the carcass of the white animal
picked up at sea. This also was the shuddering exclamation of the captive
Tsalalian upon encountering the white materials in possession of Mr. Pym.
This also was the shriek of the swift-flying, white, and gigantic birds which
issued from the vapory white curtain of the South. Nothing white was to
be found at Tsalal, and nothing otherwise in the subsequent voyage to the
region beyond. It is not impossible that "Tsalal," the appellation of the
island of the chasms, may be found, upon minute philological scrutiny, to
betray either some alliance with the chasms themselves, or some reference
to the Ethiopian characters so mysteriously written in their windings.

"I have graven it within the hills, and my vengeance upon the dust within
the rock"

| POE, E.A.

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